A World Not So United
by MysteryFlare
Summary: Everything was going smoothly during the meeting that day. Or well at least as smooth as a meeting could go. Too bad that good things never last, but life would never be fun if they did.
1. Prolouge

That week's meeting was going about just as usual. People shouted, people fought, a small percentage took notes, while some threatened to keep the peace with violence and some were awesomely annoying. Everything carried out smoothly. Everything was completely normal. Well, as normal as a meeting could've possibly been. It's too bad that good things always have to come to an end.

A blonde haired male scooted his chair back and walked up to the front of the room. With his back to the chalkboard he surveyed the crowded room. Many people were bickering and no sound could be distinguished from the other. It was a harsh cacophony of noises. The blonde turned his head and motioned at a brunette. The brunette male not much older than the first joined the blonde at the front of the room. " Attention!", snaped the blonde only to have his voice washed away in the sea of noises. " Attention please!", he repeated, ignoring the beaver trying to rub up against his jeans like an awkward, overgrown house cat. Still nobody listened. He narrowed his dark blue eyes as he walked back to the table.

Instead of taking a seat he slamed his hands down on the table with all the force he possed. It's surprising he didn't dent the table's varnished surface or just flat out break it in half all together. This action brought momentary sweet, sweet silence to the chaotic room. Much too soon to both the male's despair the noise almost immediately started up again.

The brunette shot the whole group a death glare, wielding the shotgun he had just conjured out of thin air. He positioned his finger over the trigger and aimed at the nearest most annoying target he could find. A strained hush fell over the room. The tension was so thick you could've almost cut it. He gave the slightest nod to the blonde. " Okay first order of business, " he said loudly pausing for dramatic effect. "Speeches!" Several groans, hateful protests and angry bouts of muttering followed the announcement. He put a hand up to his temple and decided to simply ignore them. " Your speech may only for the duration of your allotted five minutes and please," he said emphasizing the word. "Please make sense!"

The least petrified occupants nodded their heads while others sat rigid in their seats held back by the invisible force of tension. " If you raise your hand I'll think about calling on you ," he said and sat down. His accomplice took the seat directly across from him. After several long moments a single brave soul dared to raise their hand. Hopeful blue eyes hide behind plastic rimmed glasses. " Call on me because I have an awesome plan, " he whispered in a sing song voice not wanting to be caught speaking out of turn. He waved his hand around franticly hoping to be called on.

Finally at the end of his short amount of patience the blonde groaned and face-palmed. He glanced around the room, but found not a single other soul with a hand raised and was forced to call upon the teen.


	2. Unorganized Anarchy

Maine was had dirty blonde hair and blue eyes, not that anyone could really tell - or cared for that matter - with his jacket's hood pulled so far down. He acted and thought that he was in charge. The fact that he happened to be a rather short pre-teen didn't help. He also owned a beaver that was convinced was a house cat, which was crawling around the room thinking about chewing through wires, but that mostly earned him weird looks and not questions regarding whether or not he should have any kind of authority.

New York, who was just as much of blonde as Maine, had a ridiculous amount of hair gel in his hair in an attempt to make it stick up in some sort of attempt at a bad boy hairstyle or something. For the most part he just looked liked he needed a shower. He pretended like that wasn't the case and wondered if he should've grabbed his contacts instead of glasses that morning.

Maine groaned in an over exaggerated manner and slumped down in his plastic chair, arms crossed over his chest as he huffed angrily. "Your stupid ego gets on other people's nerves," he said trying to appear more intimidating than he really was. Truthfully whether or not Maine could even manage scaring a wild bunny wasn't a question: he couldn't. People just never gave him much attention. All in all Maine's pathetic attempt was, well pathetic.

New York adjusted his black plastic rimmed glasses and cleared his throat before speaking. "Actually I was going to talk about how the whole alligator in the Big Apple's sewer pipes wasn't true. I mean literally that only ever happened once, and it was a baby that crawled out of a street's storm drain after a bad storm." He clarified, crossing his arms in return but with confidence instead of sulky anger." I guess you don't want to hear about it, huh? So, you won't. On an unrelated note, don't use big words to make yourself sound intelligent."

Maine raised an eyebrow, "Why? I seriously think you just read that off your phone"

New York shook his head, discretely slipping his phone into his pocket, then stood up, nearly toppling his chair "Because I'm the only one who's allowed to do that!" He attempted to stand up straighter and place his hands on his hips in a manner that made him vaguely threatening instead of laughable, but people laughed anyways. He threw his hands up in exasperation and kicked his chair. The chair landed on his foot, and he had to take a deep breath to refrain from yelling curses in the presence of so many children.

A loud bang echoed through the room followed by a second identical bang. Bit of foam tiles fell from the ceiling and then became strewn about littering the recently cleaned floor. "No fighting, or arguing," warned Pennsylvania. Lots of states brought firearms with them everywhere they went, but he was the only one who kept them stashed in the different meeting building and had the guts to fire them in a crowded room. It was a miracle he hadn't been arrested.

The quarreling states stopped for a couple moments to process what had been said.

"Am I understood?"

Both states nodded in agreement, but the very second Pennsylvania looked away they were back to being at each other's throats.

Maine smirked as he watched New York fall to the floor thanks to a foot stuck out just a bit too far. "Hypocrite," he muttered under his breath.

New York sat up only to hit his head smartly on the legs of the overturned chair. A chorus of snickers and mocking laughter erupted from the people surrounding the two tables. He uprighted his chair and glowered at anyone who so much as looked his way. Maine laughed so hard he nearly fell out of his chair too, brandishing an evil looking grin. "

You know what a hypocrite is if you're so smart, right smart guy?" Maine taunted.

New York was moments away from slapping Maine. "Of course I do! Do you think I'm illiterate or something like Virginia?!"

The state in question leaned away from window, dropping his cigarette butt onto the ground below as he did. The window wasn't supposed to be open because of how freezing cold it was outside and it made the heater work overtime to keep everything warm, nor was he supposed to be smoking, but he cared even less after that comment. "For Pete's sake! I'm a science teacher! Do you think I passed the board exams by not bein' able to read?"

Everyone ignored him. New York made certain to not grace him with so much as a glance. Virginia took out another cigarette and lit it. How many he went through didn't matter. He'd stolen them off New York's seat on his way end. There was no way New York would get them back, or even get a replacement box.

"If you're so sure of yourself why don't you explain what a hypocrite is," Maine suggested, smirking..

"Why? Do you not know the definition?" New York shot back.

"Oh. I know. I'm just not sure that you do."

"Hypocrisy is like when someone gets onto someone else for cheating then the first person cheats. Or if you said you hate Hawaiians then turned around a hugged Hawaii." He explained.

The mentioned state's eyes went wide, and she thought about standing up and walking across the room just to give New York a piece of her mind. "What! What is that supposed to mean?"

New York looked at Hawaii, which was really more of a squint because of how far away she was, feeling rather awkward. "Hypocrisy just means something is contradictory. I was only using that as an example," he explained, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. He was offending everyone.

"Why'd I come to mind as an example though?" You could've said Alaska." Hawaii looked over to see if her friend minded being thrown under the bus. He was busy baby talking to Maine's beaver and offering it milk bones in attempt for it to let him pet it and failed to notice the betrayal.

If Maine's boredom was measured in freckles then it would've been apparent that watching paint dry would've been more fun than the meeting. "I was so listening to what you just said, but could you repeat all of that in case someone wasn't listening." He stifled a yawn and pulled his coat hood down farther.

New York considered slamming his head against the table. It couldn't hurt any worse than being ignored like that. He decided against it and rummaged around inside his coat pocket. He needed a smoke.

Feeling satisfied with his work, Maine glanced back at the clock It was shaped like a cat, gem green eyes and striped tail swaying with each passing second. He stared at the wall clock until he forgot why he was even looking at it. He forced himself to figure out where exactly the second and minute hands were pointing to, hating analog clocks more and more with every swish of the cat's tail.

Nearly ten whole minutes had been spent annoying New York, and two more were dedicated to staring at the clock. He scanned the room searching for another raised hand, preferably someone who actually had something worthwhile to say and not an ego to deflate like New York. To his surprise he did find a raised hand. It still wasn't someone he wanted to call on.

Alaska had been nicknamed "Devil Spawn" by his fellow states, and for good reasons at that. Sure, he was timid for the most part, but when he wasn't, he was to be feared.

If Maine ignored Alaska then he would get to play on his phone for the rest of the meeting, maybe sleep, but something bad could happen. Maine carefully weighed his limited options. He sighed and looked down at the beaver curled up next to his feet. It had been terrified by Alaska's offer of treats and scurried across the room, leaving the poor kid sad and waffle-like tail thumped against the ground, and Maine suppressed the urge to pet the beaver. Some pets did not enjoy being touched, even as pattable as they looked.

It wasn't right for a twelve year old to be so threatening. Maine didn't like him for it, but most of the states never had liked Alaska. There had always been something about him that rubbed others the wrong way. Everyone except for Hawaii would say so, though none of them could place their finger on what exactly made him disagreeable. It wasn't like Alaska spoke enough to give anyone an actual reason to avoid him.

"Um, Alaska? Do you have something to say?"

Alaska took of his scarf, unwinding it then wrapping it around his neck again and throwing the ends over his shoulder. "Huh?" He asked in confusion, abruptly snapped out of his daydreaming.

"I called on you," Maine clarified once again, shocked by how clueless some people can be at times.

Alaska lowered his hand coming to a sudden realization. "My hand wasn't raised. I was stretching," he explained. "What good would preparing speeches doing for any of us?" He asked, stifling a yawn.

Hawaii glanced over at Alaska watching him tip his chair onto its back legs, making it unbalanced. "Grammar. It's do, not doing." She smiled at him and patted his arm, which "accidentally" made his chair topple over.

Alaska stood back up, thoroughly embarrassed. He fixed his chair, scooting closer to the table. He wished his jacket had a hood so he could've pulled it over his face. He wasn't even _that_ embarrassed, but he was so pale that his face would go completely red and there was no way to stop or ignore it. From that point on he decided to keep his chair on the floor and his mouth shut.

Maine shook his head still trying hard not to laugh. His dark blonde bangs fell across his eyes obscuring his vision. He pushed his hair out of the way of his eyes and gave Hawaii a faint smile holding onto a smidgen of hope that she would have something worthwhile to say. He really didn't want his name taken off the list of meeting hosts. He wouldn't have a reason to show up anymore if they did.

Hawaii didn't respond. She looked down at her bright yellow notebook plastered with flower stickers and little palm tree doodles. Today's page was completely blank. Usually she could scrap together and decipher at least a paragraph of useful information, but even gathering that much info was rare. She didn't even have a speech prepared thanks to having to show tourists around because of her stupid job. How could she have get anything done when tourists swamped her year round? She began doodling idly on the blank page, decorating them with hearts and smiley faces.

Discouraged, Maine looked at the person sitting across from him. "Pennsylvania?" He asked, all of his previous hope gone.

Pennsylvania stopped in the middle of opening his chocolate bar. His gun was sitting on the table in front of him. No one said anything about it, but most felt vaguely threatened He shrugged and started eating his candy. He had been hoping for a decent breakfast, but no. The kitchen was filled with snacks and nothings else. He was starting to get ticked off, not that the chocolate was at fault.

"I make sure we don't kill each other. I'm not going to force anyone to help you not be a failure. You wanted to run a meeting, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I do, but I-"

"Do everyone a favor and go to sleep."

Maine sighed, slumping over in his seat. The plastic was uncomfortable and the table was freezing. His body refused to even try nodding off. He could have laid his head on his arms, but that required moving, and he did not want to move. After five minutes he decided to count sheep. At one hundred the wooly creatures turned into overgrown beavers.

When he heard snoring, Pennsylvania turned to look at Maine. The kid was snoring and talking in his sleep. He almost felt sorry that Maine had such poor hosting skills that he had to resort to sleeping, allowing the other states to run amuck, but since the other states were running amuck he focused on making sure no fights were about to break out. No one person should've been in charge of making sure things went okay. A twelve year old definitely shouldn't have been put in charge of forty-nine people. Almost none of them were adults.

Why they even had to bother with meetings made no sense. At least half of the states were barely ten years old by all physical appearances, and even with all the years they'd been alive, their mentalities didn't differ too much. They acted childish and immature because they were supposed to be childish and immature.

They never ceased to make foolish decisions, and someone decided to suggest they play American football, not considering that there were fifty people to take into account. At least half the states agreed. The other half were indifferent, and a few jumped up to go raid the supply closet.

"Out-" New York was cut off. He didn't need to look up from his phone to know everyone was trying to force their way through the door. "I was going to say outside, but I guess they already...hey. What the heck?! Did no one wait on me?"

He shoved his phone in his pocket, glancing over the few states left in the room. He could've stayed there and goofed off on the internet, occasionally making sure no one burned the place down, but he didn't want to do that. No one wanted to do that. He made it out the door before it slammed shut behind him, but the fluffy trim of his coat got caught between the double doors.. He pulled on the hood, yanking it out, but with too much force. Unbalanced, he fell into the nearby wal, hitting his head on wooden paneling.

He looked around to make sure the hallway was empty. There was no innocent ears around to hear his swearing, or anyone else to scold him for it, so he swore freely. Once his miniature meltdown was over, he sighed and started down the stairs.

Then he tripped.

For a good fifteen seconds, he tumbled down the stairs, hitting them all on his way down. The dang things were carperted, so he knew he'd managed to get rug burn in addition to some lovely bruises. He hated everything.

"Oregon put that down!" He refrained from swearing again, barely. He couldn't say those kinds of words in front of a little kid, especially when the kid had a phone and was recording him.

The light on Oregon's phone blinked off, and he shrugged before slipping it into the book bag slung over his shoulders. He slid down the staircase railing, sticking the landing at the bottom and throwing his arms in the air like he'd just performed an amazing aerial stunt and deserved applause. New York couldn't find it in himself to humor the kid, and Oregon exaggerated a frown, glaring up at him sulkily.

"Don't show or tell anyone. Heck, if you delete it, I'll buy you some pizza. Just keep your mouth shut or something, okay?"

Oregon's frown grew, and he looked personally offended that New York thought he would blackmail him, or give up said blackmail just for the sake of food.

"Do you want free pizza or not?"

Who in their right mind could turn down free pizza? Oregon nodded, pulling out his phone and deleting the video. He ran out the door, and New York warned him not to get trampled.

He followed Oregon outside, joining the already huddled up group. They were dividing up groups, waving off anyone who didn't want to play. Whether or not any rules of the games were going to be followed was iffy. No one really seemed to care, and they didn't even give the two late arrivals second glances.

Broken bones were expected, but in the end, those were the last things to were worry about.


	3. Firecracker

Rivalries didn't take long to begin showing. Sibling rivalries were bad enough, but historical rivalries were even worse, and the states were making an amazing example of how terrible letting grudges sit and simmer for years on end turned out.

A teenager with caramel colored hair and almost reflective silver eyes charged at a much younger, smaller teen.

"Hey," shouted the shorter brown haired boy just before he was toppled over. And then much to his disliking he was sat on. It didn't matter that the action most likely went against the game's rules. That fact wasn't going to keep anyone from trying their hardest to harm enemies no matter who they are or what they had done. "Get off of my ribcage, South Carolina," shouted Ohio.

"Give me a good reason for why I should move," demanded North Carolina.

Ohio hit his fist on the ground for emphasis. He just ended up with the side of his hand covered in mud, and he couldn't even wipe it off. "Oh, I don't know. How about so I can breathe?" He growled.

North Carolina seemed to ponder what was said for a moment. "How about no, I asked for a good reason. Breathing doesn't sound too valid to me," North Carolina replied bluntly. "Wait a minute did you call me South earlier?" He asked angrily.

Ohio fell silent, mostly because he was scared to answer but also because he could scarcely breathe.

"Now I'm definitely not getting up," he declared. Ohio smacked his head against the ground and tried to get away.

"I hate you so much," Ohio complied, the frosty air slicing like a knife through his lungs. Lack of oxygen coupled with just above freezing temperatures wasn't helping him at all.

"Yeah I know. You say that every time I see you." North Carolina twisted the aviation goggles hanging around his neck out of boredom. "These stupid things are fogging up and I'm not even wearing them," he complained rubbing the glass with the hem of his plaid sleeve.

"Quick question, what would happen if I pulled out some of your hair and or stabbed you?" Ohio managed to wiggle his other arm out from beneath his body. Now both of them were free.

"I'd kill you."

Ohio grinned at his sudden brilliant idea. He grabbed North Carolina's arm and bent it in a direction he knew it wouldn't go and jumped up, pumping both of his fists into the air. "The plane was assembled at my place it was flown at your home. Live with it!" Ohio shouted sticking out his tongue and running off. His foot caught on something and he plummeted to the ground.

"I know that." Said North Carolina, rolling his eyes.

"Really? I thought you would die if you knew that." Ohio almost sounded hopeful.

"You'd like me better off that way, wouldn't you?"

Ohio proceeded to chant _die_ over and over, but it had no effect.

From off to the side, South Carolina had been watching. Listening to Ohio and North Carolina argue about the same things every time they saw each other was annoying. The game of football had really turned into more of a game of "tackle anyone who annoys you" and South was happy to take up on that offer.

"Please don't kill me I'm just an innocent bystander," shouted North Carolina as he hit his head against the ground so hard that he saw stars.

"That's a lie," South muttered.

"I see stars," North Carolina said, sounding halfway delirious.

They'd always had an awful sibling relationship, but at least North Carolina didn't want South dead as much as most people did.

"You okay," he asked North Carolina in concern.

"I am perfectly okay!" North Carolina assured him, almost shouting.

"What is your definition of perfect?" South Carolina asked in a doubtful tone.

"Um… Shut your stupid face!" North shouted at his brother after a couple moments.

South Carolina's silver eyes lit up with anger. "

Bye," North Carolina said jumping to his feet then running away as fast as he possibly could to escape his brother's wrath.

Instead of chasing after his brother, South Carolina decided to brutally tackle another state for the sheer heck of it. The person just so happened to be New York who had finished all five of his laps and was currently distracted by conversing with, a much younger than himself, friend of his. He handed the kid something and in exchange the kid gave him money. The kid walked away towards one of his friends.

"I left my phone in the meeting building. I'll be back," he shouted over his shoulder to New York while his other friend walked along beside of him.

New York waved the kid off, unable to care any less if they came back. He cried out in alarm as he was slammed to the ground. Clumps of grass and dirt were torn up and incoherent arguing could be heard throughout the field. "I'm not playing football," New York shouted before swearing at everyone in the only foreign language he knew.

Behind them two states ran back out of the building and over to where the fight was going on. The older of the duo grabbed New York by the shoulders and roughly dragged him away from the ongoing chaos.

The five girls who had been acting as cheerleaders turned around curiously to watch the trio of states walk away. Hawaii tugged on her friends sleeve and pointed at their meeting building. "Um… is it supposed to be doing that," she asked in panic. The other girl shrugged and went back to chewing her bubble gum before the all four of the girls walked off without Hawaii. The building emitted double the smoke it was only mere seconds before.

Hawaii's dark brown eyes widened, but it wasn't in surprise. It was in pure anger. "You do not ignore me," she screamed stomping her foot as hard as she could against the ground.

Alaska walked over to where Hawaii stood."What is the matter?"

She pointed desperately at the building. "Is it supposed to have that much smoke coming out of it?"

Alaska shook his head. "That could be...a problem. Just a small one."

Flames erupted from the building and every head in the entire field turned towards the fire's origin. Hawaii elbowed Alaska in the ribs. "So much for the 'no smoking sign', huh" Hawaii said jokingly hoping to get a laugh out of Alaska. He gave her a flat look. "Okay it's not funny," she admitted.

Alaska looked around frantically. "Shadow?" He asked continuing to look around. Usually his dog stayed right by his side, especially when he was taking him for a walk.

Hawaii's eyes widened in alarm, "I'll help you look," she offered. He nodded his head in acknowledgment and separated from Hawaii so that they could cover and search more ground.

Across the field New York slumped down against a conifer tree, but quickly stood back up. The ground was freezing cold! The fact that the sprinkler system had been on the fritz might have contributed a little to the ground was so cold. Something moved in the branches above his head. He looked up at the tree trying to make out the dark shape amongst the branch. He was pretty sure that someone or something was watching him. Everyone already hated him because they thought he was the one who had decided to burn the building, and if someone actually _was_ watching him that would only make his situation worse.

Somehow everything was his fault. It wouldn't have made any sense if had actually done it anyways. Why would he sabotage a building that he owned? It just sounded rather contradictory to him, but that didn't matter to anyone else. It was all because he had a moderately shady side to his personality. They didn't even care that he made a lot of money that way. Setting those thoughts aside New York tried his best to blend in with the shadows, but his neon blue jacket ruined any of the slim chances he would've had in the first place. He pulled his jacket closer to his body against the bitterly cold wind blowing through the area. The acrid stench of smoke of smoke became even stronger and it was all he could do to keep from coughing his head off. Above him somewhere in tree someone or something (most likely the latter) gagged and conifer needles fell like rain to the ground. The majority of them managed to find a new home stuck in New York's hair.

New York shook his head vigorously to rid himself of the bothersome plant debris, and then he looked up at the tree's limbs searching for the source of the gagging. "Nevada. Alabama," he exclaimed in an angry whisper shout. The said two states waved down at New York.

Alabama was hiding much closer to the tree's top than would be considered safe. Pine needles were clinging to his rubber boots, so he leaned over to knock them off, sending another shower of needles to the ground. He shivered as the wind blew by again. In hindsight he had to that admit long sleeves would've been a much better choice for the weather, but he had just thrown on the cleanest smelling thing out of the pile in his room.

A couple of branches below of Alabama was the second child who had bought something off New York before leaving to retrieve his phone. He looked like he'd rebel in an instance, or just steal all of someone's money when they weren't looking weren't looking. Either way Nevada was Nevada.

A well-worn pack of playing card along with the top of his phone stuck out of his back pocket. They threatened to fall out and meet their demise against the cold, unforgiving ground, but he was more focused on staring at his boots. _Why do I even own a pair of water proof boots?_ He wondered. _Don't I kind of own Death Valley? I really should've got a pair of shoes that kept sand from getting inside of them._ Nevada reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, its original color had been plain silver, but was sporting a black case with a skull and cross bones on it. Nevada chose that specific case because he had deemed it 'Cool enough for now,' apparently he wanted a really cool case that would match his personality. The others thought that at times the symbol matched his personality to a T. He had then commenced to search for sand proof shoes; sadly he found none and nearly chucked his phone out of the tree in an act of anger, but he didn't though he came * _this*_ close to doing it.

New York stared up at the two younger states for several more heart beats before he shook his head and looked away.

"Nevada what are you doing," Alabama asked much louder than he should have.

New York wanted to climb up there and personally slap the kid.

Nevada stopped mid-throw, "Um… I'm mad at my phone. What does it look like?" He asked, sounding genuinely confused. He ran a hand through his hair, phone still in hand, as if he were trying to act cool.

"Like you're 'bout to waste three hundred dollars for the tenth time. I don't get why ya'll city slickers are like that. If I had three hundred dollars, I'd put it in the bank."

Nevada's green eyes widened and he quickly fell silent and shoved the devise into his back pocket. Nevada had a knack for randomly breaking electronics. He always claimed it was an accident. New York sighed and tried to estimate how long they had until they were busted, but he couldn't quite have determined that without the correct factors. They could've sent a number of different states to look for them, and it all depended on who exactly it was that they sent. Finally he gave himself and his companions three minutes at the most.

"Hey Alabama," called out New York deciding to risk asking a question, "Do you still have extremely bad luck?"

Alabama nodded, "Sure do. Why ya askin'?" He'd ticked off Louisiana a few too many times in the past and had a curse placed on him. It was a wonder that a tree branch hadn't knocked him unconscious or a bird hadn't decided his hair was the perfect place to build a nest.

New York instinctively bit his tongue tp refrain from blurting out what he wanted to. "No reason," he responded, lying through his teeth.

Alabama yawned and rolled over. He plummeted off of the limb he was lying on which was dangerously high up in the air. He hit about five branches on his way down and just barely managed to grab hold of a sturdy branch. He bit back a scream and tried his best to control his shallow breathing and rapidly pounding heart.

Nevada slowly looked upwards, "You okay," he asked, resuming game from earlier on his phone.

"Yeah sure," Alabama said, still holding onto the branch as if his life depended on it. "Wounded my pride s'all that happened."

"Crap! I thought you hurt yourself," exclaimed Nevada in disappointment.

"That's some dang dark satisfaction." New York leaned back against the tree. He closed his eyes and turned his head so that he wasn't looking at he sun. He was blind enough as things already were.

Alaska, who happened to be standing nearby, looked like he was going to wring someone's neck in the very near future. He was checking each bush around, almost frantically so, and every time he didn't find what he was looking for his panic grew.

"We're going to die..." New York trailed off and averted his gaze, kicking the toe of his shoe against the

Hawaii leaned over, looking into another bush. The short branches tangles in her hair, and brittle leaves broke off, littering her dark hair with reds and oranges. She shook her head but they didn't come loose, so she sighed and attempted to comb them out with her fingers. Eventually she gave up and grabbed Alaska by his arm, dragging him away even though he would've willingly followed.

"Think they's gonna rat us out?

"No. They would never do that," New York assured him sarcastically.

"That's a relief!" Alabama responded happily, but his happiness quickly disappeared. Without saying a word he pointed at something not so far away. Three sets of eyes were all trained on the same figure as it came closer.

The tall male was wearing all western style clothing, and almost gave off the impression that he belonged in one of the old cowboy films set in the middle of a dessert. He had dark brown hair, which was mostly hidden by a hat, dark brown eyes, and tan skin. His hat was the most notable thing at first, at least until you saw the objects clipped to his belt. Sunlight glinted off of the handle of a metal weapon tucked in its holster, not to mention the random cattle prod. He smirked knowingly over at the tree where the trio was hiding and waved.

New York gave him a sheepish smile and waved copied, hoping it was the right things to do, which caused him to fall out of the tree. He hit every other tree branch on his way down before his body thudded against the ground, smack dab in the middle of a cluster of tree roots. He groaned, but gave thumbs up sign with his head barely lifted off of the ground. Out of strength, his head lolled back onto the ground, most likely unconscious.

Nevada used the distraction to climb out of the tree unnoticed. He was never honest, never played for a team, only caring about himself. He was deceitful, and his true colors were already showing, and they were odd colors for him to be such a young kid.

The man raised one dark brown eyebrow skeptically at the kid's sprawled out form. "I'm not so sure that one would be in the cahoots with you," he said in a doubtful tone pointing at Alabama.

New York offered a shrug. "He could've chosen better friends than me." He made a run for it, but fell short of his goal. Instead he ran into an outstretched arm. "Hey! Come on Texas let me off the hook! I'm a good person; you know I didn't do it, right? Come on, please!" New York shouted.

"Wake up Alabama, why won't you?"

"Was that a rhetorical question?"

Texas narrowed his eyes, "Make him quit being unconscious," he paraphrased, it was clear he was annoyed.

New York muttered under his breath and walked over to where Alabama laid. "Sorry," he said in advance before adding, "Not," with a pitiless smirk. He kicked the kid in the ribs, hard.

Alabama's eyes opened slowly, his pupils nearly blocking out the blue of his iris. He sat upright, obviously in pain. "Ow, ow, ow, ow ow!" He exclaimed in pain. He stood up unable to keep from wincing as he did so. "Why?!" He shouted rubbing his aching ribs.

New York shrugged, and together they followed Texas to their impending doom.

They joined the awaiting group of angered states, heads hung low in shame. The group formed a circle around the duo. The tension brewing beneath the atmosphere was so palpable it could have been cut. Texas stepped aside and joined the crowd's midst.

Pennsylvania, the states' non-officially chosen official leader, stepped forward. His eyes were blazing with fury, and his hands were curled into fists. "Why would any think it was a good idea to set off fireworks in a building?"

"It wasn't me," New York said not looking him straight in the eyes.

Alabama kicked at a clump of dead grass, barely paying attention to his surroundings, let alone what was being said.

Pennsylvania folded his arms over his chest and waited. And waited, and then he waited some more. "Well? "He prompted

"I like pyrotechnics," Alabama declared after a long period of silence.

Pennsylvania looked like he wanted to scream his head off then bang it repetitively against the nearest object, but he managed to keep himself from following through with the tempting notion; just barely. Nobody said a single word as they watched Pennsylvania grip his weapon so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

Another state separated their self from the crowd, but this one walked over to where Pennsylvania was standing though not to confront anyone. "… You okay?" He asked, and placed a hand on the shorter state's shoulder.

Pennsylvania jerked away from the person's touch and spun around to face who had invaded his personal space. He recognized the close cropped hair and the permanently stern face. "Delaware?"

The blonde nodded his head.

"Don't ever touch me again. You just compromised my personal space," he said and for good measure he took a few steps away.

Delaware looked at Pennsylvania, his eyebrows knitted together and his mouth set in a disapproving line. "What the heck? We're family."

Pennsylvania narrowed his eyes and held his weapon tightly by his side. Delaware shook his head in disbelief before turning around and walking away.

Pretending that what just happened had never happened, Pennsylvania began addressing the surrounded duo once again. "So-,'' he began only to be cut off. Alabama raised his hand a confused look on his face. "Yes, Alabama," he asked.

"I'm confused. What exactly is goin' on? And why is there a hostile circle surrounding me, and him," he asked pointing from himself then to New York while trying to make sense of the ring of people.

At that point in time Pennsylvania was seriously considering his previous idea of smacking his head against a tree. "You helped set of firecrackers, and fireworks. You are in trouble, and this is trial. Got it?" He asked trying to make Alabama understand what was going on.

"Huh? I did what now? Oh, you mean with the sparky thingy and the piece of braided string, right," he asked excitedly. Pennsylvania hit Alabama on top of his head with the stock of his gun.

"Idiot!" He exclaimed almost unable to believe how stupid some others could be at times.

Alabama, coming to an abrupt realization, stopped grinning and gave everyone a tight smile. He suddenly didn't feel the best, almost fearing his life might come to a unpleasant and sudden end. "Well Nevada never should have given me a lighter. I mean come on it makes fire. And that button that makes the spark is fun to click. Not as fun as a striker and a bottle of acetone though. You know, you just click, click, click and it keeps on sparking." He declared, preparing to go on a rant about his two most favorite things in the whole world.

"Shut up! You're giving everyone a headache," Pennsylvania said.

Alabama became quiet and diverted his gaze, staring straight down at his boots. New York snickered barely holding back his laughter, which made Alabama mad. He kicked the older state as hard as he could in the shin.

"Wait! Did you say Nevada gave you the lighter," Pennsylvania asked, registering what had been said earlier.

Alabama slowly raised his head back up. His blue eyes were once again hopeful. _If I can pin all the blame on those two I might get off the hook. Whoo!_ Alabama thought all of that just inside his head though, and slowly nodded in response to the asked question. He didn't want everyone to know he had full intentions that he planned on being a rat. He only saw them once a month - except for Louisiana who he saw more along the lines of once a week - and he didn't want to give them any reasons to hate him.

"Nevada. Can you come here?

Somewhere in the crowded circle's midst laughter stopped, and all eyes turned to where the sound had come from. He looked around mapping something out in his head as quickly as he possibly could. "I am going to flee now," he announced very loudly. He dashed towards a large gap, in-between two states, in an attempted hasty retreat. He almost made it, but something snagged on the back of his shirt. He kept trying to run, completely unaware that his legs were no longer touching the ground. He glanced over his shoulder and saw someone that made him stop his ineffective efforts towards getting away.

"Oh come on!" Nevada cried out as he threw his hands up in the air in desperation.

"Kid, you ain't going nowhere."

Nevada's pulse quickened like his heart wanted to run away, too. He did his best to control his breathing and tried to keep his thoughts in order. If Texas was mad at him he'd never here the end of it. He'd have to run away and live in the desert forever and never visit his friends again, hiding out in Utah's camper until the end of days.

He swallowed back his rising panic and took a couple of extra second to consider what exactly what he was going to say. Texas looks at him expectantly, and he had a felling he needed to say something quickly or he was going to experience way more consequence than he was going to face in the first place.

"I didn't do it," he cried out almost in tears.

Texas really knew how to put pathological liars on the spot. "Then what's that," he asked, bluntly pointing out the neon red and yellow striped cylindrical shaped object, which was accompanying his pack of playing cards.

He sat Nevada back down on the ground but loosely kept hold of his shirt. All of the color drained out of Nevada's face upon remembering the incriminating evidence. Holding back all of the curses Nevada shouldn't have known at his age but still wanted to scream, he mentally slapped himself, and Alabama. He mostly mentally slapped Alabama.

He snatched a firecracker from his back pocket and attempted to strangle it. After that failed, thanks to explosives not containing throats or windpipes, Nevada resorted to other means of taking revenge on the object. So he flat out glared at it. With all of the anger of ten thousand tiny, burning, hate filled suns, behind his bright green eyes. It was a surprise that the wick didn't burst out into flame as he had intended.

"I handed that off to Alabama," he shouted furiously.

After his prior attempt also managed to fail he chucked it as far away as he could. Instead of going very far away and hitting Alabama as he had intended the projectile smacked against the ground a long ways away from its anticipated target. Nevada stuck his tongue out at the damp firecracker and crossed his arms over his chest, turning his head away from his failed effort and commenced to stubbornly sulk. Texas rolled his dark brown eyes and shoved Nevada into the center of the ring of people.

Pennsylvania surveyed the trio of culprits suspiciously. "Do any of you have an alibi?" He asked curiously, deciding to at least give them a chance. All three of them began talking simultaneously their words overlapping one another, rendering whatever saidincoherent. He glared at them all, not tolerating a second of the illogical rambling. The talking died out, and they felt as if there were daggers being glared into their very souls. Well, they all quit except for New York.

Despite New York's rambling being completely incoherent everyone understood where his rant was going, and nobody liked it. The tactic was one he had employed many times before, "confuse everyone then pin the blame one somebody else." Personally the states agreed that the ploy was old, and it had gotten old fast. Alabama gave him a death glare, his dark blue eyes flashing with anger. New York continued his rant completely unaware that something bad yet preventable was going to happen to him if he didn't shut his mouth soon. Sadly, on New York's part, he didn't stay quiet.

Alabama glared daggers at New York, "Shut up, or I am going to duct tape your mouth shut instead!"

New York disregarded the threat.

Alabama gritted his teeth and curled his hands into fists. "I'm tellin' ya nicely. Shut it."

New York stood up and stared to back away, not because of Alabama, but because that had been his original plan. Alabama tackled the older state to the ground and pulled a roll of duct tape out of his overall's front pocket. The tackled state cut his rant off mid-sentence and looked up at Alabama in confusion. Alabama held out his convenient roll of silver duct tape, and proceeded to use it properly. The proper use for duct tape is to immobilize the intended victim, and then duct tape them to the wall, or the ceiling, or it could be used as Alabama had done. New York had several pieces of duct tape slapped over his mouth. Somehow, his shoelaces were duct taped together, too. He would've been impressed if he wasn't mad.

In that same amount of time it had taken to bind him, New York had easily freed himself. He threw a crumbled up ball of tape back at its prior owner. He stuck his tongue out prepared to begin gloating, but something told him that it would be a bad idea and that he should get to the ever so elusive point of his speech. "So to recap it is not my faul-," Alabama glared at him again and Nevada didn't look too happy either.

Forty seven sets of unique eyes glared at New York and his two accomplices with an identical glint of malice held in each, sending a shiver down the trio's spines. The three males looked nervously at one another and then back at the clearing, feeling a greater sense of impending doom than they did earlier.

Nevada nudged New York sharply in the ribs. "Do something," he hissed urgently.

New York gave the group a tight smile, racking his brain for a solution. After only a few excruciating moments of tense silence he cracks a wide, devious grin and blurted out the first brilliantly stupid idea that popped into his head.


	4. The Interruption

Everyone was relatively pleased with his idea, and New York was pretty happy with himself too. Mostly he was just happy because he prevented himself and his accomplices from experiencing severe bodily harm. And that was far from what they wanted. On the downside since he was the one who had come up with the idea he had to keep everyone from becoming street pancakes. Lucky him, he was in charge and he had a feeling that inevitable failure loomed on the horizon of his near future.

He forced those thoughts to the back of his mind and commenced a head count. It would be really bad if he lost someone, or multiple some ones, before they even left. That would be bad, and after hanging around Alabama that would be just his luck. "Everyone shut up and stop moving," New York shouted. A few states briefly stopped what they were doing and turned to look toward New York, but the quickly went back to going about their own business deciding to ignore him. Why did people only listen to him when he was talking about nonsense, why not when he said something important or something smart? New York repeated what he had said moments before, but still nobody listened to him.

New York sighed and took a deep breath, almost wincing at how the cold air sliced through his lungs. "Everybody shut up I am going to do roll call," that definitely got their attention, but now they were not happy. That didn't matter though. "Alabama,'' he called. "Behind you," said state responded. "Alaska," he asked continuing down the list in alphabetical order. "I'm cold," he answered in complete monotone. "Arizona?" He questioned. "I own the grand canyon," declared the chibi state. On of Arizona's brothers slapped him. "Arkansas?" He asked, desperately wishing that there wasn't so many states to reme4mber and keep track of. "Here." "Connecticut?" He asked having some trouble remembering the state's name despite having a photographic memory.

Connecticut was nowhere in sight. "He's back there asleep," Maine informed him pointing at a figure dozing with their back to a towering conifer's trunk. New York nodded in acknowledgement and continued on. At the end of the long, long list of names only three people were missing, but they all eventually turned up. Connecticut as mentioned was asleep under a tree, and Hawaii and Oregon were working on a coloring book. Well, Hawaii was coloring and Oregon had got bored and had decided to watch Hawaii color for the heck of it. New York sighed in relief. By some absolute miracle nobody had gotten their selves flattened. That feat really was truly, without a doubt stunning.

New York looked up at the sky watching the ominously dark clouds move in to cover the last remaining patches of blue sky. It was still a bit warm for it to snow, and hail was doubtable and so was sleet. There was only one more form of precipitation that even had a chance of happening, rain. That was what the forecast had been fore that morning not to mention the fact that it had a one hundred percent chance of happening. Or that more specifically it was supposed to not just rain, but it was supposed to thunderstorm. _Joy,_ New York thought sarcastically.

"Let's go," New York shouted, and as always everyone rushed off ahead of him. He looked back at the smoldering remains of their meeting building before sighing and walking away. As the street below came into view the angry looking grey clouds covering the sky decided to exact their revenge on anything and everything underneath them. Sheets of heavy, ice cold rain pelted the states. The rain droplet fell with such force that they stung like a barrage miniature bullets. After only a sheer matter of a couple seconds everyone's clothes had become plastered to their skin, and the day was becoming even less enjoyable than it was before. "This is just a perfect day," muttered New York sarcastically as he kicked a soda can discarded on the rain soaked sidewalk.

"That was sarcasm, right," asked a female young adult. "Yes Maryland," New York replied. Maryland shuddered, her platinum blonde hair drenched and plastered to the back of her dark blue and white dress. The particular dress almost reminded her of a sailor suit, but she wore it anyways because her favorite mint green dress was waiting in the laundry basket to be washed at her home. She had bought the blue and white dress, along with a matching hat, for Halloween several years ago, but it was just causal enough to where elsewhere. It was also the first thing she pulled out of her suitcase that morning, so she coupled it with a pair of white stockings and had decided to wear to the meeting.

It baffled New York how a girl with a personality with such a personality as the one Maryland had could be such good friends with somebody as intimidating as her neighbor Delaware. Or it may have been the fact that the two were neighboring states had contributed to them being the good friends they were. Not to mention that more often than not Delaware could be found hanging out at Maryland's house and vice versa. Once he had even questioned them, asking if they were or had been in a relationship. Delaware had threatened to beat up New York, but it wasn't like the two had ever really gotten along. He and Maryland were actual good on the "friends" to _"I hate your guts"_ scale; regardless she had brought out her rolling pin and hit New York over the head with it multiple times. She had come extremely close to giving him a concussion.

New York mentally debated over whether it was worth the effort to wipe his rain splattered glasses or not. With each additional second outside in the pouring rain, especially without any vacant hospitable cover in sight, and with the exceptional lack of umbrellas it was becoming increasingly hard to see. Personally he felt it was stupid to continue walking around in the ongoing storm, but his fellow states had already token up the offer on his proposed notion and there would be no swaying them otherwise now. The fact that what lay scarcely a fourth of a meter in front of their faces wasn't disconcerting enough to make them change their minds, and New York highly doubted he could persuade them to go against his previous idea. Sometimes his choices weren't always the best ones, and even when they were good natured in intent somehow they always came back to bite him in the butt. Life was a mysterious thing and it liked to make situations work out like that. You just had to forge through those times and hope that you didn't manage to start a war, or get yourself killed. And New York had accomplished neither of those things, so he still on the good side of life for the time being.

Meanwhile it was still raining and that was just one of the things that life liked to throw you on a day that was going as perfect as New York's was. "Um…New York, isn't there enough of us with cars or trucks and driver licenses to you know carpool," questioned Maryland. New York nodded, but shuddered at the thought. "On the first hand it is raining really, really badly and the traffic is already worse than you could imagine, seriously look at it," he said gesturing a hand out through the blinding rain at the highway neighboring the sidewalk, "And on the second hand would you really want to cram five states into one vehicle. Think about that scenario in these conditions for about five seconds, please." New York reasoned, he shuddered again, but this time it was hard to tell if it was from the thought of such a mortifying traffic scenario or if it was from the freezing cold rain. Contemplating what was said, Maryland stared down at her feet focusing on walking while simultaneously playing out the set-up in her mind. Utter chaos was all she could succeed in picturing. She shuddered at the thought just as New York had. "Understood," she responded softly and walked away, returning to Delaware's side.

Back to being alone with his thoughts, New York and the rest of the group of states reached the end of the sidewalk, and the start of a cross walk. A presumably hand shaped, glowing red object appeared in place of a white human like symbol. Impatient to get out of the rain, and just being his self, New York hit the walk button on the side of the nearby pole non-stop until the glowing white human figure reappeared on the opposite digital sign. He started across the road weaving between pedestrians advancing in the opposite direction of the vast majority, the crowd walking northward solely composed of states.

"Holy cow," exclaimed Alabama, pushing his soggy dark brown bangs away from his eyes and behind his ears. He was stunned by the multitude of people populating virtually everywhere he looked, some lingering by the doorways of buildings and talking with accents so different from his own, others dashing in and out of shops rushing down the sidewalks and dashing across streets in a rush to reach their next destination in as little time as possible. All of the people had one thing in common; they were all brandishing umbrellas just as Alabama so desperately wished he had. There was one at his home, but it wasn't doing him much good stowed away between a wooden bench and a simple wooden chair adjacent to the front door. When he was packing, just as many other states had done, for the trip to the meeting in New York City the possibility of it raining had not once crossed his mind and he had found not one reason to pack his umbrella. Now he was wishing he had actually bothered to check the weather forecast for his destination, but all of that was over and done with and there was no way to turn back the hands of time and make sure that he packed his umbrella. He could've darted in one of the many shops lining every nook and cranny of the streets, but he had left his wallet in his motel room and that fact posed a problem for just about everything.

A kid walking along beside of Alabama sneezed twice in a row. "Bless you, and bless you," Alabama said. "Thank you," replied the kid. He had on a faded checkered flannel shirt, torn up denim overalls and a pair of scuffed up well-worn boots of an indistinguishable shade of a color. The boy would've looked right at home with a black and white dairy cow, eating a piece of cheese, and holding a pitchfork, or with a pitchfork and a barn on the premises. In the midst of a city he looked out of place, but without the overalls and if he switched his boots for his old pair of tennis shoes he would've looked just as commonplace in the city as he did on a farm, where he typically spent his time. He sneezed again. "Are you okay Wisconsin," asked Alabama sincerely giving the younger kid a genuine smile. "Yeah I'm fine. Thanks for asking," Wisconsin replied keeping his brown gaze ahead of him. If he looked away it was highly likely that he would walk into the person in front of him or trip and then get trampled, and he did _not_ want to let that happen. He had learned from his friends' and siblings' mistakes that it was no fun. Fortunately he had escaped from making a fool of himself in such a manner, but had a habit of leaning back on unlocked doors and moveable objects on wheels, which from his own experience he was certain it was also was no fun.

Somewhere in the distance a boom echoed over the sounds of the ever busy city. Hawaii jumped like a startled cat and clung to the nearest states for comfort. Annoyed Alaska unlatched the unnerved state from his arm. "Nyet," he said shoving Hawaii a bit further away for good measure. Hawaii shoved him back, but Alaska didn't budge. Hawaii puffed out her checks in annoyance before sighing, "No fair, meanie," she pouted. Alaska smirked, but showed no other emotion. "My coat is soaked," he complained. Hawaii offered a halfhearted shrug, "I don't even have a coat and I'm not complaining." She replied, gesturing at her half shirt, short skirt, and flip-flops. Alaska cocked his head to the side curiously, "You could've worn one, but you choose to show off your mid-riff instead," he said pointing at Hawaii's exposed stomach. She crossed her tan arms over her stomach and stuck her tongue out mockingly at Alaska. "My house doesn't reach sub-zero temperatures, it's tropical, dummy!" She shot back. Alaska offered his own shrug, "I was just stating fact," he explained. Hawaii shook her head and kicked Alaska in the shin. "I don't understanding you," Alaska said, hopelessly awkward in social situations. "Same!" Exclaimed Hawaii in excitement before grabbing Alaska's arm just above the wrist and dragging him forward, and as always he willingly followed without a single complaint. Not to mention that this time he actually had a good reason to follow his friend, their group had left them when they had stalled their walking for talking. If they didn't catch up they were going to be in what you would call a situation.

A yellow-white lightning bolt ripped across the sky in an illuminated arch, and an earsplitting rumble of thunder reverberated through the air leaving everyone's ears ringing. At that moment Hawaii came to a sudden halt stopping herself a split second before she would've ran into the back of another state. Unfortunately for her that meant Alaska would collide with her instead. This action in turn caused them both to ram into South Carolina. They shared the same worried frown and attempted to back away slowly.

South Carolina was in the middle of a conversation with his brother, who though almost identical to South had lighter hair, but now that the rain had soaked the their hair colors were matching shades of dark brown instead of caramel brown and a paler brown. "Be fine my butt," he snapped back, the next arch of lightning mirrored by his and North Carolina's nearly reflective silver eyes. All of a sudden he whipped his head around to face Alaska and Hawaii. "Watch it kids!" He growled at them. They exchanged a look before responding. "We're both older than you," snapped back the white-blonde haired boy and black haired tan girl. South Carolina shook his head and walked off returning to the group where he belonged and things relatively made sense, the group call it a club even had earned its nickname during the Civil War possibly even before then, The Southern Boys.

In brief their little self-proclaimed group was weirdness. Pure weirdness and dysfunctional family members would be more accurate.

New York looked up and down the road checking for cars before dashing across the street, no longer paying attention to the odd things that go on inside of the group of states. It wasn't worth the effort to even try and figure out what was going on at least half or even more of the things said and done didn't even make sense in context. Or any context at all for that matter

"We're here!" Announced New York throwing his numb hand up in the air triumphantly, but he quickly shoved them back into the pockets of his water proof jacket. Just ahead of them was a familiar landmark. A " _Government Property, No Trespassing"_ attached to a tall metal stake driven into theground long ago. The group of states stared in awe at the building beyond the sign wondering how it had turned out they it had. It had grand shiny golden brown, varnished, double doors leading to the building's lobby inside. The doors and assortment of matching windows, with matching greenish-blue curtains obstructing the events going on inside the building from the outside, were set into a backdrop of pristine white painted walls. It could almost qualify as a mansion from the outside, but the inside was even more over the top and lavish. The building had turned out at least ten thousand times better than the wobbly crayon drawings that had been presented to the carpenters and interior designers.

A teenage state with unevenly cut blonde hair that reached just below his ears, and bright blue eyes, sighed in relief. The male looked a lot like a certain Frenchman that many others knew very well, but wished that they didn't. His name was Louisiana commonly known as one of the masters of black magic, and especially when it came to communicating with the dead, but he hadn't quite mastered raising the deceased yet "I'm so glad that I walked in and told everyone what to do or…," he said under his breath, but he quickly trailed off and shuddered. Focusing on other things he ran across the building's front lawn trying to catch up with the group of states.

At first they tried to enter through the convenient front doors, but were quickly ushered out by two annoyed security guards, back into the swiftly falling rain. So, after failing to enter the typical traditional way they resorted to other means of gaining entry. Meaning they climbed in through a first story widow that was strangely left ajar, despite the pouring rain. It was an unconventional method of entering a building but it worked all the same. It worked even though it was technically considered breaking and that they might or might not get arrested, hopefully they won't get arrested.

As soon as they managed to sneak upstairs and into a vacant room they made the most of it. The room equipped with its own empty fireplace, air conditioner with a heat setting, and two tables adjacent to one another with seats stacked up in every available corner was what they found. "Somebody please go and turn on that heater now," requested Maine loudly. A small reddish brown haired chibi with dark brown eyes walked up to the heater and began hitting the little built in "heat" button repeatedly as quick as he could. Wisconsin grabbed the small child's wrist and turned up the heat setting, making sure it was on, with his spare hand. "Oklahoma just why," he asked in evident confusion. Oklahoma shrugged and poked one of the buttons on his jacket. Wisconsin shook his head and left Oklahoma to do whatever he pleased, he on the other hand was going to be sensible and sit close to the heater.

Before even a minute had slipped past half of the states were either asleep or being obnoxiously loud. Possibly loud enough to be heard all the way down at the other end of the hall even the multitude of guards downstairs may have been able to hear them. Luckily for them there already was a commotion going on down at the opposite end of the hall and nobody would have been able to tell that there was two separate groups causing boisterous ruckus.

At the far end of the hall inside of the first room on the left bordering the winding staircase was a completely different world, the world of the Nations. It was what one would call unique, and that it was in its own special way. The room was crowded especially for the people sitting at the tables and nearly everyone was sitting down. Despite their diversity everybody in the room had something in common. They were ready to kill at least one other person in the room. Ready to kill someone, that was, until the room went completely silent and instead of hearing a pin drop they heard shouts muffled by the building's walls and a resounding thump that echoed through the hall.

Italy began to shout his infamous catchphrase only to have Germany silence him and slap his hand over the older nation's mouth. Moments later there was more muffled shouting sounding as if it were part of somebody's heated argument that was on the brink of becoming a flat out fight. Whatever was going on was weird. It was weird all right and a few certain nations wanted to find out what was going on. That choice wouldn't be one of the best ones they could make in their life, but that didn't matter they would still make that choice all the same.


	5. Playing Sherlock

Another muffled shout came from down the hall. There was no denying it anymore. There were more people here than just the nations and the people that worked in the building. "Dudes, does anyone have any clue as to what's going on here?" America asked his boisterously loud voice breaking the spell cast over the occupants of the room. "I have an idea," said England smugly. America chose to ignore him. England stood up and pushed his chair back underneath the table acting like the proper gentlemen that he was. "I bet it was that little brat Sealand! " He declared, not acting so gentlemen like, "And his little Micronation friends, too." His brain was jumping to sudden, random conclusions.

America took a large bite out of his hamburger and gave the older Nation a skeptical look unconvinced by the proposed theory. "I doubt that and I'm me," America said. England started to comment back but America was now solely focused on eating his hamburger. He decided against talking to his former ward. "I'm going to go teach that little brat Sealand a lesson," he muttered angrily under his breath. He looked around the room briefly before he started towards the door. He closed the door behind him and entered the hallway.

Barely two steps out of the doorway England realized that something was wrong. He hadn't shut the door soon enough and someone had followed him. Behind of him stood, much to his disdain, France. They couldn't stand each other! So why had he followed him? England started to grit his teeth in anger and tried his best to ignore the perverted Country. "What do you want," England asked irritated. "Frog," he added under his breath. "You are playing Sherlock. I wanted to watch you fail at it" France stated simply, throwing his blonde locks over his shoulder. England glared at France emerald eyes narrowed in anger. "Would you mind leaving me alone? I happen to be doing something very important right now," He said trying to disguise the intolerance in his voice. France looked around the hall at all the doors lining the almost endless hall and the pictures of things that had no coordination or taste at all. "I see nothing important except this disastrous hallway," he said over-exaggeratedly as he thrust out an arm to gesture at the hallway's décor. England picked up his pace which widened the gap between him and the drama queen acting Nation. "Do not leave me behind," France said and he too quickened his pace.

Realizing that France wasn't going to leave him alone any time soon he rolled his eyes and said, "If you're going to follow me would you at least mind helping?" After a moment of thought he agreed. The green eyed Nation pointed at the left side if the hallway, "You test all the doors on that side. Tell me if you find anything odd." France gave him a blank look in response. "Anything odder than who knows what America would normally would stow away in a room." He rephrased. This time France nodded and went all the way back down the hall and began testing each door one the left side of the hall. England smirked, pleased with his solution to his France problem. Then he too began opening doors along the right side of the hall.

The first opened surprisingly easy without making even a slight sound creak. It was stocked full of various items. Inside was a vacuum cleaner, a broom, a plastic dustpan, a roll of paper towels, a bottle of window cleaner and an assortment of other cleaning products and tools. England shut the door and continued to next one. He glanced down the hallway at the multitude of other doors that had yet to be opened. He mentally groaned at the time consuming task before him and twisted the next door's knob.

Several pointless closets later England was almost ready to snap. "Who even needs this many bleeding rooms?" He grabbed a nearby doorknob and nearly wrenched it out of its fixed position while forcefully jerking the door to reveal more worthless, completely random junk. More specifically it was a whole linen closet full of board games. They were stacked up in various haphazard piles that appeared to be incredibly unstable as if one wrong move would send everything toppling over resulting in an avalanche of cardboard boxes and plastic game pieces and multiple colored cards. The games ranged from Tic-Tac-Toe to Othello and an overabundance of others was crammed into the small room. England was confused and was becoming even more ticked off than he was before. Disappointed and angered he slammed the door, spun around and walked away.

He stooped mid-step after hearing a serious of loud crashes and plastic pieces knocking into one another and the sound of boxes cascading to the ground. He almost cringed; he had not thought his prior action through at all. As he walked on down the hall he didn't even risk glancing back. The inside of that closet was now a mess that was all there was to it and he couldn't do much about its condition. It was best that he just pushed the matter to the back of his mind and returned his focus onto his current task. He resumed walking down the hall and on thinking about how he could speed up the process of finding the culprits of the muffled shouting that he had heard earlier in the meeting room.

England let out a sigh his heart dropping as he realized that the door before him was locked. Then he realized something. It was the last door on this side of the hall! He had finally located the room where the troublemakers were hidden. The fact that it was locked gave him even more of a reason to open it. There was only one more problem he had to solve, how was he going to open the door? He ran over a list of potentially useful object he had saw in the prior closets and rooms and what he actually had on his person. He didn't have a screwdriver or a bobby pin or any other possible lock picking tool, and he hadn't seen any of the items either. He looked over his shoulder finding France staring at a particular door. He turned around and started to ask him about a bobby pin, but he stopped himself before he even uttered the first word. France was still staring at the same door, seemingly transfixed by the entrance way itself. He rolled his emerald green eyes and sighed before making his way across the hall deciding that he might as well help the older male with whatever predicament he had ended up getting himself into.

He gave France a glare and then he stared at the same point of the door that France was scrutinizing. "What is it," England asked intolerantly. France trolled his eyes and he pointed at an object. "What do you think it is, Sherlock?" He flipped his blonde locks over his shoulder and laughed his trademark laugh as he turned to England. Involuntarily he took a step away as he studied the particular spot on the door too. A silver colored object with a grayish white ribbon secured around its looped shaped top end protruded from a partly obscured shadowy keyhole carved into the center of a square of dark metal that was set into the middle right of the door just below the doorknob. He looked at it for a couple seconds and then turned back around before saying, "It's a key you moron, "he snapped before he reached out and the key into his hand and turning it in the lock. The key scraped against the metal mechanisms inside the keyhole but refused to turn. England wiggled the key around inside the lock, but it didn't make any difference either it still refused to turn. "Well," asked France raising an eyebrow. "It doesn't turn," England said through gritted teeth. "It can see that," France retorted. England yanked the key out of the door and stormed back across the hallway.

He started to throw the key at the wall but stopped. An idea popped into his brain he felt ridiculous for almost ruining his chances of solving his puzzle. He subconsciously gripped the icy cold metal key tighter until the metal bit into his palm. He uncurled his fist and stared at it for a moment. It was roughly the size of his palm with a simple weighty design and was bright silver in color surprisingly untarnished. He slid it into the keyhole and then gave it a twist. It turned smoothly, fortunately without a single hitch, and it slid into place amongst the interworking pieces of the simple locking mechanism. He turned the door knob and gently pushed on the door watching it swing open. What it revealed was not what he had expected to see.

A white room almost completely bare of any form of decoration was all that lay beyond the door. Was that all his efforts had amounted to, an empty room? England entered the room. His footfalls echoed strangely around its small but empty confines. All that was inside was an intricately carved gold colored large picture frame that was hung on the east wall lovingly framing an exquisite patch of ivory white paint identical to any other section of wall in the entire room. It was almost unsettling, the picture frame hung there without its back for any obvious reason. It was actually weirder than it was unsettling. On the west wall, opposite of the barren picture frame, was a set of long deep red ruby colored drapes that hung down from a shiny curtain rod that was clumsily held in place suspending the drapes at an almost diagonal angle that caused them to sweep the floor. It was just as odd and out of place as the empty picture frame. A second door, likely leading to a closet, was set into the far wall. Something was off about the room, or the person who had designed it was missing a few bolts or was just really, really weird their self.

"This is atrocious!" Declared France, as if the whole room went against every fiber of his very being as, making his displeasure evident as he made his entrance. "The least I could is let some light into this poor stuffy room," He exclaimed as he threw open the heavy red curtains exposing the busy sidewalk and street below, and the rain still pouring down. "What light," grumbled England gesturing at the dreary grey clouds blocking out any possible sunlight, nothing penetrating the thick blanket covering the sky. Suddenly the sound of sirens, muffled but still audible, could be heard coming from the street below. A fire truck and a couple police cars raced down the street. England and France exchanged a look but didn't give it a second thought. England turned to the back wall and stared at the door hoping it was locked. He started towards the door, his footsteps still echoing eerily loud as he walked, and opened it. He stood there holding it open waiting for something. As France started to walk through the door England made sure to say, "Ladies first," before following. The older blonde continued walking undisturbed having apparently heard nothing. England raised one bushy eyebrow but said nothing else.

The door led to another very plain yet very odd room. It wasn't the room's décor per say, considering the fact that there was absolutely no furniture, or weird pictures, or slanted drapes in the room. There were only blank white walls and a light bulb fixed to the low ceiling with an object tied to it. England looked up at the object dangling from the light fixture. It was unnaturally bright yellow in color, Christmas tree like in shape, suspended by an elastic string, and emitted a faded lemony scent. These observed qualities amounted to only one conclusion. It was a lemon scented car air freshener. "This is just _too_ odd," said England shaking his head. "This room smells like lemon," France commented disdainfully and then he pinched his nose to block out the smell. "It smells better than drunken cheese," England muttered. Yet again France failed to hear or react to his insult. Instead was staring at a door, which had a handle in the place of knobs they had seen on previous doors. "Are we trapped in some kind of weird dream that just has a bunch of doors leading to nowhere?" France asked walking up to the door and twisting the hand. It barely moved in either direction.

"Go figure," said England taking a couple of steps forward to get a better look at the door. He glanced at the key he was holding in his right hand, the cold metal was no longer cold and he had almost completely forgotten about it. France raised one eyebrow skeptically, "That won't work. The door doesn't even have a lock on this side," he pointed out. "I can see that!" England retorted, clenching the key tighter until the metal dug into the flesh of his palm. He shoved the key into his pocket and turned away from France. "Hey Sherlock," he started to ask. "What," England snapped back. The older blonde looked up at the pine tree shaped air freshener dangling just above his head. "What do you think would happen if one were to pull that air freshener?" England knitted his bushy eyebrows together in concentration. "Perhaps the floor might spontaneously fall out from beneath our feet, but there's not very likely that, that scenario would actually happen," he offered. Something behind them creaked. They turned around to look for the source of the noise and nothing had noticeably moved. As far as they could tell everything was the same.

Suddenly the door swung wide open banging against the wall while the one they entered through slammed shut. "I pulled it." France said and held out the tree shaped piece of foam that had a severed string looped through its top. "Why did you do that," demanded England. "I did it because I wanted to through this thing away." He pointed a miniature trashcan that had somehow magically appeared in the back corner of the room. England backed away slowly from the mystery trash can but he went a bit too far and backed several steps into the newly opened room. Something in the back of his mind told him that he had finally found the child he had been looking for. He turned around chuckling to himself and started to accuse Sealand of causing trouble then hiding in the room but the word never made it past his lips.

His brain finally registered what he was seeing and he immediately regretted even getting out of bed and coming to the meeting.


	6. Magic Hiccups

A hatchet soared over England's head and sunk blade first into the wall behind him. Then a random boy walked over to the doorway. "What was I doing again," he asked staring up at England and then looking around in confusion. "You are not Sealand." England said to himself. "I know that," the boy replied still looking around. Then he saw it. "My hatchet, that's what I was looking for," he said and walked to the back of the room and tugged on the weapon's handle. It held fast. He pulled on the handle harder this time; it finally came loose after a few more tugs. Pieces of the wall and plaster cascaded to the floor, and the white wall now bore a deep jagged line in it. The boy put the hatchet back in its loop and started to walk off. "Who are you," England asked, looking at the now sheathed weapon hanging from the kid's belt. The boy spun back around and he stuck out his hand. "I'm Maine," he said, "Who are you?" "England," he replied and then shook the kid's outstretched hand. "I got ten dollars today do you want to know how I got it?" He asked grinning happily. England began shaking his head but the kid proceeded with his story anyway.

"I was talking to Pennsylvania and New York about how they always were in charge of the meetings. After a while New York got annoyed and he and Pennsylvania made a bet with me. If I could run a meeting like they would for a couple of hours, and if I could actually stay focused on what I was doing they would each give me five dollars apiece. That's ten whole dollars, so I agreed to their bet. Everything went well, I got to act like an adult like how they usually acted, and then New York, who seriously didn't want to give me any money, declared that we all go outside and play football. We played American football, your soccer. Then New York and Nevada and Alabama set our meeting building up in flames. As far as I understood New York sold Alabama a lighter, Alabama's practically a pyromaniac he's not the only person like that though. And Nevada had some fireworks and they had the great idea to set them off inside of the building. It was a bad idea, but it wasn't my fault so I still got the ten bucks!" He exclaimed and then leaned back on a wall only to discover there was no wall behind him so instead he fell to the floor. England stared at the brown haired kid who was still smiling and rather distracted. "Did you take a single breath while you were telling me all that," he asked. Maine shook his head, got to his feet and walked back out of the room still smiling. England and France watched the kid walk off their eyes wide with disbelief. And then the kid tripped over a chair and fell.

England looked into the room and saw a whole hoard of people who were probably just as weird as the Maine kid he had just met. He had come all this way to find this very room, and he was having second thoughts about going inside of it. It probably wasn't worth the risk, but England wasn't going to turn around and go back though, he _had_ come all this for a reason and even though he was proven wrong about his prior theory he was still right in a sense. Kids had invaded America's meeting building. Going back now was pointless. He stepped through the doorway and into a room as chaotic as all the other meetings he had ever attended.

As soon as he actually entered the room it went completely silent and all eyes turned towards France and him. England stared back at them. After a few tense moments the people went back to what they were previously doing. Their presence wasn't causing any alarm among the group and nobody even seemed interested in why they were there. All that quickly changed when somebody walked over to them. It was a teen with chestnut brown hair and azure blue eyes. "Hello England," he said calmly as if he were an acquaintance of the country. England stared back at the boy, he had no idea who this person was and yet it appeared as if he already knew him. "Hello," England echoed, only to be polite. After a few moments of awkwardness England broke the silence, the awkwardness was only felt by him though. "I don't mean to be rude, but do I know you?" "I should hope," responded the brunette. England smiled sheepishly, "It seems that I've forgotten your name." The brunette didn't seem bothered by that at all. He looked over his shoulder at somebody standing behind him, and England saw a small checkmark shaped scar above his right temple. He turned back around, "I'm Massachusetts, and I'm really sorry but I want to go see how badly my younger brother can screw up making a sandwich. Goodbye," he said with a wave and then he walked out of the room.

France walked away from the doorway and began walking around the room and then was confronted by someone who looked a lot like him only younger and slightly different. England started to walk across the room too but ended up almost walking into someone. "Sorry!" Exclaimed a young adult as he turned around from who he was talking with before. England studied the young man's appearance. He didn't look to yet be out of his teens, he had hair not too much darker than bleach blonde and his eyes were a pale shade of sky blue. He was wearing a worn out straw hat, faded denim overalls along with a blue checkered shirt and brown boots. England had a feeling this person would introduce himself too, but he had a faint memory off seeing some of these people before. A kid from the Jamestown colony that had looked much like the person that stood before him, except much younger and with a cowlick that stood straight up, had ran and hid behind a tree whenever he had caught sight of him getting off the boat. He was almost positive that they weren't the same person, but if he was thinking correctly the two people he had just met shared the names of two of America's states. If the suspicion in the back of his mind was right then these people were states, then there was a very large possibility that he had met a few of them before. Or not, these people could actually just be random people who happened to remind him of past acquaintances.

"Who exactly are you," England asked deciding to go ahead and get that question out of the way. "I'm Virginia," the blonde responded happily, and then yawned and muttered something impolite about someone. England gave the cheerful teen an odd look, maybe he had imagined it but it sounded as if he was cursing someone under his breath. "Did you say something?" Virginia started to shake his head but then slightly nodded. "I'm just kind of sort of mad at my younger brothers," he said after a while. England waited for further explanation. "They can be annoying at times. I have four younger brothers all of them are legally able to drive, and for some reason they all came to my house yesterday at 'bout eleven 'o'clock last night, while I was asleep, pounded on the door for I don't know how long, finally let themselves in and then flipped the mattress off my bed along with me. For some reason Kentucky brought Dennis the dang fox with him. And then I messed up pretty badly this morning when I was milking the cows," he explained.

England looked at the blonde again, this guy was starting to sound a bit odd, and there were about four people near by listening in on their conversation. "Pray tell how you messed up," he inquired. A male with bright red hair, part of the eavesdropping group began snickering and soon the three other males followed in the same suit. Virginia hung his head in shame, and then his straw hat fell off. His cowlick was revealed. He jerked his head back up his checks burning bright red, and the people behind him laughed even harder. "You guys are awful," Virginia said turning around to face the four teens. He had his hands tightened into fists, but somehow he didn't truly seem mad. "Those are your brothers I presume," England easily guessed. The five males nodded in unison. The red head nudged a slightly shorter boy who had black hair, "Tell 'im what Virginia did this morning, Ten," he suggested his voice quiet. He shook his head and looked over at the almost identical brunettes next to him. "I'll tell him if you three won't," said one of the silver eyed brunettes. The other brunette shrugged and told him to go ahead. "He tried to milk a bull instead of a cow and got kicked real hard in the stomach. It was funny to watch." "I thought he was dead," added the other brunette. "It wasn't fun to go through," Virginia countered. "It was still funny to watch," pointed out the black haired male, "But it did look like it hurt," he added. All of them agreed on that.

Virginia sighed and picked his hat up off the floor and put it back on. He pointed at the only younger male with blue eyes, "The one with bright red hair and a whole lot of freckles is Kentucky. Those two with brown hair are North and South Carolina, and before you ask yes they can be told apart. And the shorter one with black hair and green eyes, with the guitar case is Tennessee. Don't ask me why his hair and eye color turned out the way it is either, that is a mystery to us all including him." Virginia walked a little ways away from England, and joined his younger brothers' little group and they all stood there as if they were waiting for something. "Hey, you're the only blonde brother and I don't say anything 'bout it to you," Tennessee said, sounding a bit offended. "And yet you make fun of Kentucky even though his hair color actually makes sense," Virginia pointed out, his tone even. Tennessee gave him a weird look, "How does my hair color not make sense," he retorted. "Because the stereotype for Tennessee is also red hair," Virginia replied simply. "You make no sense." Tennessee said. "I am the king of making no sense!" Virginia declared with a large grin. Tennessee looked over at his other brothers for an answer but they all shrugged at a loss for words. Kentucky's stomach growled, "I'm hungry," he said quietly. "We can go get food afterwards," Virginia said and then started humming a random tune. His brother seemed satisfied with the answer and then they started talking about cats.

"After what," asked England. He didn't mean to pry, but Virginia hadn't specified what exactly they were going to do before they ate. Virginia quickly stopped humming and his blue eyes widened for a fraction of a second but then he resumed humming, not offering an answer. Something was off. "After what," England asked again. Virginia stared at him an odd look on his face. "Every man's business is no business and especially not to you," he replied. "That's not an answer." Virginia had his back turned to the country and had already began walking off, his brothers along with him. They joined a group of about nine other people and they all began talking and laughing about something funny.

"Why should we listen to you," asked Massachusetts his blue eyes narrowed suspiciously as the laughter died down. "You don't have to, but I've got extra practice on being in charge a couple of hours ago," said Maine in a rush, as he squeezed his pet beaver in a tight hug. "Didn't you kind of screw that up?" Asked Massachusetts with one eyebrow raised in suspicion. "That's already in the past. This isn't even my idea, and we all already agreed on this anyways, didn't we," asked Maine. "He's right," Virginia pointed out. "Can I go steal his wallet," asked New York. The twelve other states stared at him in silence. He felt kind of stupid after saying that but New York wasn't going to go back on his words. "Yes if you can somehow manage to pit pocket him you can steal his wallet," South Carolina said sarcastically rolling his silver eyes. "The point of pit pocketing is to steal any possible valuables a person may have on them, and typically wallets rank pretty high up on the valuables chart. Stealing someone's wallet is kind of the point," New York explained as if it were the simplest thing in world. "I could've figured that out for myself," South Carolina snapped back, "And how the heck those that topic even crop up in a conversation like this it doesn't make much sense!" Massachusetts shook his head and sighed. "South Carolina has a point about that, but could we please just get on with what we were actually doing!" The other states nodded after a moment and walked back over to England.

"Hello again, I brought my friends this time," said Massachusetts rather cheerfully. "Why are you all so interested in talking to me," England asked feeling confused over what had happened over the course of the past few minutes, and especially what had happened in the past hour. "We're not, we just thought that we'd talk to you since you and your friend came in here for no reason. We knew you were coming though, we could hear you two arguing out in the hall," explained a blonde with irises so dark you couldn't tell them apart from his pupils. England felt embarrassed that so many people heard France and himself bickering before they even saw them. "Don't be embarrassed. I've heard worse arguments, and I know that first impressions can't be changed but what you know about a person can change very drastically once you get to know them a bit more. This is true for the majority of the people in this room, and their personalities have mostly just gotten worse from the day I met them. I'm not saying this holds true for you and your friend though," New York said without looking England in the eye, because eye contact was a hard thing for him to do, and he was also stealing his wallet while keeping him distracted with small talk. Eye contact among animals meant a threat; he wondered why some people didn't understand that. He pulled out his phone and put England's wallet in his pocket in one fluid motion, the country being none the wiser. "Anyways, I'm New York," he said and then returned his phone to his pocket. After that each state in the group that was not yet known by England introduced their self.

"Why are you here England," one state asked curiously. "I heard some kids making a ruckus so I came down the hall to investigate, and France came with me and somehow we ended up here" England explained. "Do you know who we are now," Massachusetts asked with a sly grin as if he knew something that the Nation did not. "You're states," he replied calmly. "We're also the original thirteen colonies," England's emerald green eyes widened and his thick brows flew up in surprised arches. "We want revenge," said Maine with a grin as he hugged his beaver. "You're going to hurt me?" He quickly recovered from his initial shock and had returned to being calm and composed. "Hurt you," quoted Virginia laughing at the idea, "We're going to humiliate you. We've learned that it's much more effective." Maine put his beaver on the ground and smiled, "Ready?" The other states and his beaver nodded. "Thirteen against one doesn't seem fair but I'm willing to play against those odds." New York shrugged, "We never said that we were going to be fair. I'm happy that you're not against this idea though" Alabama pulled out a roll of duct tape from his pocket and began peeling off a long continuous strip. Somebody pinned England's arms to the side of his body, and Maryland and New Jersey pulled out their makeup kits. Revenge was a dish best served, especially if it humiliated someone, and the states knew that well.

Less than fifteen minutes later England found himself in a sticky situation both figuratively and literally. He was stuck to the ceiling, he had an undoubtedly ridiculous makeover, and he was stuck to the _bleeding_ ceiling! This was courtesy of Alabama and South Carolina's weapons of choice, and girls. Below him were thirteen laughing, high fiving states. Close by were the rest of the states and they were just as amused by the country's predicament. He tried to wiggle free but was basically unable to move from his neck down, because somehow they had not only managed to duct tape him to the ceiling but also applied tar to the back of his clothing. He was doubly stuck to the ceiling. "Could somebody please turn on a telly or possibly get me down from here?" "No," responded the state that that looked a lot like France. "Who are you exactly?" "I'm Louisiana," he replied. "You have a wand," England asked upon seeing an object that looked much like a small trimmed branch sticking out of Louisiana's pocket. He pulled out the wand and looked at it for a couple moments before returning it to his pocket. "I got the hiccups a few hours ago and have been casting random spells ever since," he said and then he hiccupped.

A chair across the room disappeared, in the piece of furniture's place stood a very confused lamb. England raised one eyebrow questioningly, and Louisiana hung his head in embarrassment. The lamb bleated several times and then ran towards Oklahoma who was standing nearby. Instead of running away the young child threw his arms around the fluffy animal's neck and hugged it. "I'm amazing," Louisiana said sarcastically. "The lamb is amazing, you on the other hand not so much, you're just a weird person," Oklahoma corrected. "You're an odd child!" Louisiana retorted, gripping his wand tightly as he pulled it back out of his pocket. "Thank you!" "Go home!" "Make me." "No." "I'll tackle you," declared Oklahoma. Louisiana turned away from the reddish brown haired child and did his best to ignore him. He pointed the wand at the lamb and it disappeared. Oklahoma's eyes widened and he gave the magic using state a murderous look. "Why did you do that?" Louisiana only hiccupped in reply. A bowl of candy appeared where the lamb once stood. Oklahoma picked up the bowl of candy and glared at Louisiana again. "Go drink some water, count backwards and hold your breath, or think about cacti or something just stop hiccupping already and do not make my candy disappear or I will turn you into a sentient sandbur!" Exclaimed Oklahoma as he walked away taking the large bowl of candy with him. "Can that child really do that," England asked. Louisiana shrugged, "He borrowed one of my old magic books several years ago and can apparently cast some spells. If he can actually succeed in preforming any transformation spells I'm not completely sure. I'm also not sure why he would cast any of them on me either." Louisiana said with a shrug and then he hiccupped again.

The chair that had disappeared suddenly reappeared exploded in a puff of white smoke. "That's it I give up," Louisiana shouted and threw his hands up in the air and trudged over to a corner. He sat down and hung his head in defeat. France began to walk over to the corner to comfort his melancholy former territory. Louisiana hiccupped, and a solid iron anvil appeared suspended in midair above France's head. Gravity then took effect in an indirect way Louisiana nearly bashed the country's brains out. England began laughing as if this was hysterical, but quickly stopped when realized that France wasn't moving, and then France began twitching. "That's for never paying attention to me," Louisiana muttered sulkily, even though he had hurt the country unintentionally. France muttered something incoherently in French and England scowled but was glad that he hadn't just witnessed a murder.

England thought for a moment and then something came to him. "Was that book a black magic book by any chance," he asked. "Yeah," Louisiana mumbled counting backwards from ten in his mind even though he knew that it wouldn't do much good. "Is there any chance that the child perhaps learned a few curses?" Louisiana thought for a moment, "Non…WAIT! Oklahoma did you curse me," Louisiana shouted across the room at said child who had managed to find a candy cane in the bowl of candy and was currently very happy with himself. Oklahoma looked up and took the cherry flavored candy from his mouth. "No. Wait a second," he licked the candy cane and gave his answer another moments thought, "Oh, yeah I'm pretty sure that I _did_. Oh, well," he shrugged and bit off the end of the candy cane. "Why did you curse me," Louisiana asked angrily. "I didn't mean to curse you, but it worked so I'm happy." Louisiana narrowed his eyes and muttered in angry French under his breath, "I trained you well," he added the brown eyed child in surprise at the end of his rant. "Trained me," exclaimed the brown eyed. "Trained me," he repeated and scoffed at the idea. "Why do you think you came to my house every other weekend?" He hiccupped several times in a row. Oklahoma shrugged, "Because there was free food and all the soda a seven year old boy could drink," guessed the child. "You're seven I thought you were younger," exclaimed Louisiana, his blue eyes wide in astonishment. "I'm seven and that curse thing only last for twenty four hours so you can't do anything about it," Oklahoma stuck the cherry candy cane back in his mouth and walked farther away from Louisiana. Louisiana then went back to sulking in his corner.

"Could someone please get me down from here," called out England. Everybody chose to ignore him. "Bunch of ungrateful little American twits," England muttered angrily. That's when he noticed the cameras. A torrent of bright flashes went off forever memorializing the country's hilarious predicament. He blinked trying to rid himself of the bright white, tinted green splotches everywhere he looked. _Curse those stupid camera flashes,_ England thought angrily. He noticed a distorted France behind a phone camera and several other countries clustered near the doorway still taking pictures of him. Among those countries was America.

America stepped inside and looked around he sighed and shook his head in disappointment. He let out a low whistle between his teeth still shaking his head. The room became deathly quiet and all of the states froze in their tracks. America clapped his hands together and grinned his Hero grin, but there was something else behind his smile. "You dudes are in trouble," he said looking around the room at the petrified faces. "New York, Virginia, Delaware dudes get over here!" The three said states appeared in front of America. "Please tell me that at least one of you dudes knows why you are in the _emergency_ meeting room," America said looking suspiciously at each of the three states in front of him. "Well, fire is an emergency," New York said looking down at the floor as he wiped off his glasses with the hem of his shirt. America's eyes widened in surprise, "Fire," he repeated. "Yeah," muttered Virginia, he was mad about something and was missing his straw hat. Delaware nodded in agreement to what was said. "Please explain to me what happened," America said doing his best not to sound mad. "Also where's your hat Virginia," America asked and then he flicked the slightly shorter blonde's cowlick. "I'd like to know that too," Virginia said beginning to sound a bit ticked. "New York, I know that you had something to do with you dudes being here and the supposed fire so would you mind to explain," prompted America. New York stared down at his feet avoiding eye contact, "Well it all started with me making a sell to earn back five dollars that I lost in a bet…," he began awkwardly.

* * *

 **A/N: Ack! I'm so sorry that it took me so long to update, life has been life and we all know how that goes.** **J** **(I feel bad about taking so long though)Anyways thank you guys for reading this and a special thanks to those three of you who have reviewed. I'd be very happy if you guys would review and tell me what you like about this story and what you would like to see in the future. Thank you for reading once again, bye!**


	7. Why Do You Trust Us?

America rolled his eyes, and sighed as New York finished summing up the whole ordeal that had leaded them to this situation. "I should've known you states had done something when I heard sirens outside," America said shaking his head in disappointment. "Are we supposed to be offended by that? I'm not even sure I understand what's going on." Virginia said sounding rather confused. New York turned his head to look at Virginia wanting very much to slap the blonde state. "Don't think about it too hard, you don't know lots of things," he mockingly patted the blonde state on the shoulder. Virginia did _not_ look amused. He narrowed his blue eyes and said very flatly, "I asked for an answer to a question, not to be insulted by the likes of you, not that your answer would've mattered very much anyway." New York rolled his eyes, "Remember what I said earlier this morning 'Don't act smarter than you really are'," he retorted smugly. "Seems that you haven't taken your own advice yet," Virginia pointed out. New York scoffed at the accusation. He then took out his phone to check something. Pennsylvania glared with cold, dark brown eyes at the two arguing states. "If you don't stop arguing I will break you both, you should be paying attention to the matter at hand, and not some petty rivalry," he said not amused at their quarrelling, as he seemingly summoned his gun out of thin air. Virginia raised an eyebrow, "Do you mean our mentality, because mine is already broken" he informed him calmly. Pennsylvania's eyes widened slightly, "I didn't mean I was going to interfere with your mindset, Virginia," he said sounding a little worried for the blonde. "Oh, I feel dumb now, and I have a hat to go find anyways, have fun finishing up our conversation with America," he said and nonchalantly walked away. Both Pennsylvania and New York watched him walk away feeling seriously irritated at him.

America pretended as if the whole argument had not happened and picked up in their discussion right where they left off. "Pennsylvania can you get Nevada, and Alabama for me?" Pennsylvania nodded and walked off to complete his task. America turned his gaze to New York, who had a sinking feeling in his gut that he was in serious trouble, but with years decades of practice he didn't show it in the least. "You don't need to punish me; I already know that I will have to pay for the repairs on the building." New York said calmly, looking at the screen of his phone instead of at America. "I never said that I would punish you dudes." "It was strongly implied by your tone of voice, and your glare," New York said without even looking up from the screen for a fraction of a second. "Dude, you are a bit freaky sometimes. One minute your angry, now you're freaking me out, what is wrong with, and why would you sell a lighter to two pyromaniacs," demanded America. New York took a deep breath and sighed. He shook his head. "I had already explained to you that I lost money in a bet to Maine, and when Nevada and Alabama came to me and asked for a lighter I seized my chance to make my money back. I didn't ask them what they were going to do with it. Have you ever been asked what your intents of using something are, it would be dumb if a cashier asked 'What do you plan on doing with that can of chips'," New York explained once again before returning his complete attention onto his phone. America had zoned out, until food had been mentioned. "Eat them of course!" He declared, laughing. "That statement was rhetorical." New York said flatly. America remained silent, watching Pennsylvania escort two young boys. "Are you obsessed with money? Were you raised by the Netherlands?" New York's eyes widened behind his glasses, and he nearly dropped his phone, "Shut Up! You already know the answer. I am Dutch, of course I raised by the Netherlands." He said, trying his best not to lapse into Dutch. "Oh, yeah," America said remembering acquiring a territory by the name of New Amsterdam in the past. "Speaking of that is the Netherlands here?" New York's question was answered when he spotted spiky blonde hair amongst the crowds of people of the room. "Never mind," New York muttered, but America was no longer paying attention to him, he was instead lecturing Alabama and Nevada, Pennsylvania had been dismissed and was no longer nearby.

Alabama and Nevada were fidgeting uncomfortably under the stern blue glare of America. At that very moment they were both wondering how they could make New York their scapegoat and pin all the blame on him. America shook his in disappointment, this wasn't the first time this had happened. The states had managed to reduce other meeting buildings to rubble before, but that was not why he was mad. The states had sworn never to crash a meeting unless it was an absolutely dire situation. Wrecking their meeting building was nothing new, and something he classified far from being a dire situation. He remembered one time when somebody crashed their car into Maryland's meeting building and he was informed that they had finished up their meeting later that day in a local Pizza Hut, along with some lunch. He didn't understand why this time was any different, and they had sworn not to crash one of his meetings, and yet they had. It might have been linked to the fact that the two meetings were held in the same state, in the same city, on the same day, and at roughly around the same time, and mix in the pouring rain and thunderstorm outside, the states had probably just wanted to get somewhere before they got electrocuted, but still he was mad.

"I'll think of your punishments later, you two are coming to my house after this whole mess is over, understood?" Asked America sternly, not going to take no for an answer. "Yes sir," The two young states replied, looking him in the eyes and agreeing, knowing that they had no other choice. "Let's go back over that one rule shall we," America said. Alabama and Nevada frowned, but still listened to the Nation. "Do not set off Fireworks inside of a building under any circumstances, not even the Fourth of July, do you understand?" They nodded," Yes sir," the replied without a second thought, this also wasn't the first time they had been lectured for setting of fireworks inside buildings or at other places they weren't supposed to. "How many times have I told you not to set off fireworks inside of a building?" They answered with sheepish looks and silence. "Hmm," Prompted America. "Too many times for us to still do it," they replied in glum unison. "Why do I trust you two, why do I trust any of you," his gaze stopped upon a fight between two rivaling states. "Why do I trust you guys," he exclaimed sounding hurt. It was a question he hated to ask himself. "Why do you trust us," the boys said in unison even though this part of the conversation had never cropped up before. "It really doesn't seem like a wise choice to me, but I guess you trust us because without us you are all but nothing, your name does have 'United' in it for a reason," Nevada pointed out. America could help but smile, the kid was right. "Thanks Nevada, you're right dude," the country said ruffling the state's red and blonde hair. "You're still being punished though." The smile disappeared from Nevada's face quicker than poker chips did when he was gambling. "I said something worthwhile for nothing," sulked Nevada and he kicked the floor, before walking off. He spun around on a dime with a large grin on his face, "Don't forget to look up," he said laughing at the ceiling; he turned back around and continued to walk away. Alabama went after him, but thought against and went off in search of his strict older brother.

America's gaze slowly traveled upwards until something on the ceiling caught his eye, and he burst out laughing. "I've been waiting for something this ridiculous to happen to someone for two centuries," America said between his fits of laughter. He pulled out his phone and turned on the camera and snapped a photo. His flash was on, which temporarily blinded the Brit. He snapped another embarrassing photo in case one of them was to get deleted. America slipped his phone back in to the pocket of his bomber jack. England gritted his teeth together in anger. "Don't stand there like the idiot you are, do something useful!" He snapped growing more irritated as America's laughter grew louder. "You're tarred and duct tapped to the ceiling," stated America between gasps for air. "I already know that," spat England. "Dude, you're going to come down missing half your clothes. Say, did a brown haired teen with silver eyes use the tar on you?" America asked curious if his hunch was correct. "Yes," England responded the tar and duct tape restricting him from giving a nod without causing him much discomfort. "South Carolina needs to be talked to, but I can't be mad at him. This is hilarious!" America declared laughing even harder than he was before. "I'll find my own way down," muttered England. America gave him a flat look, "It will rip off your clothes, dude, there's no doubt about it." "I'll find a way down," England persisted, "If only I could reach my wand." "Okay, dude whatever," America shrugged and turned his back on him, and walked away leaving England to his own devises of how to get down.

America walked past Russia, doing his best to avoid the tall, scarf wearing Nation. Russia was searching for the three Baltic Nations that were formerly under his control. "Latvia, Estonia, Lithuania," he called out his voice carried a creepy childlike note to it. America walked off in the opposite direction of Russia, knowing that even though it was not him who Russia was looking for, but he did not want to do anything to prolong the already disastrous meeting, and that was very much unlike him, but with the states mixed into the fray he wasn't sure what would happen. And he didn't want to find out. It probably wouldn't end well.

Alaska saw Russia walking his way and immediately decided to hide behind the nearest thing, which just so happened to be Texas. "What are you doing?" "I'm hiding obviously, now being quiet," hissed Alaska in a voice just above a whisper. "Who from," he asked not dropping his voice. "Russia, now being quiet," Alaska repeated. "So, go talk to him," he said indifferently. "You go talking to Countries who used to owning you," Alaska hissed back. Texas turned around to face the white-blonde haired kid. The two almost triangular tufts of hair near his bangs were straight almost resembling horns. "Calm down," Texas said, knowing that the kid was seriously mad, and maybe even the slightest bit scared. "Deal with Russia by yourself, _adios_ ," Texas said and walked away completely ignoring Alaska. "Please don't," Alaska's voice faded to a whisper when Russia saw him. "Hello," Russia said cheerfully. "Going away now," Alaska responded. "Why are you dressed so oddly," Russia asked noting Alaska's lack of coat and scarf. Alaska looked at his blue sweatshirt, and grey sweatpants, "My coat and scarf got wet," Russia looked confused, "How?" Alaska narrowed his dark purple eyes in annoyance. "Have you been outside," he asked gesturing towards a rain splattered window. Russia shrugged and gave him a creepy smile. "Not sure how to responding to that, so Shadow what have you done today," Alaska asked his dog in an attempt to drop his conversation with Russia. "Do not talking to dog," Russia said giving Alaska a very weird look.

Shadow barked at Russia, his feathery black and white tail which had been wagging furiously moment before stopped and Shadow barred his sharp white teeth at Russia. The tall Nation only laughed. Alaska wrapped his gloved hands around his solid steel crowbar and frowned at Russia. "You can leaving us alone now," Alaska said dismissing Russia with a one handed wave. "Nyet," Russia responded wielding his lead pipe. "I said you can leaving now," Alaska repeated with a creepy grin. Russia didn't budge, but Alaska had a feeling that he would soon. A young woman in a purple maid like outfit walked up behind Russia and the Country's expression morphed into pure terror. "Goodbye," Alaska said and continued his conversation with Shadow as Russia was unwillingly dragged away by Belarus.

Meanwhile Virginia was still searching for his hat, he didn't know how he lost, he didn't have a single clue as to where it might be, but he did know one thing and that was that he was going to find it. He walked over to Kentucky and Tennessee who were talking to each other and laughing, but they immediately shut upon seeing their older brother come towards them. They were both sitting at the table which was in the middle of the room, but Tennessee was sitting in a chair and for some reason Kentucky had decided to sit on the table, which was probably because all the other seats were full. They knew he was still looking for his hat since his cowlick was still very visible. "Hey, Virginia," Tennessee said cheerfully. "Hi, have you seen my hat," he said getting straight to the point. "No," Tennessee responded, a goofy smile still plastered on his face. "I think I did something wrong when I raised you two," Virginia said shaking his head. "Yeah, if they required a license to raise children you would not have one, you are would be one of the least qualified people I know," Kentucky said quietly. "Thank you for pointing that out," Virginia said sarcastically. "You're welcome," Kentucky replied sounding sincere, either being very dense or enjoying the fact that he could easily annoy his older brother. "Well, tell if you do see it," Virginia said before walking away. "We will, Alfalfa," Tennessee promised making an old TV show reference in terms to Virginia's cowlick.

Tennessee moved a hand from behind his back and revealed a worn straw hat, the hat that Virginia had owned for as long as they had knew him and probably long before they had even existed. "You are dead," Kentucky hissed not sugar coating his brother's fate at all. "Not if I can find a scapegoat," Tennessee declared loudly. Kentucky glared at him, his ice blue eyes saying that if shouted that loud again, he was going to die and if not Kentucky would personally punch him in gut. "Good luck Mr. Social Anxiety," Kentucky said bursting out laughing. "If we're goin' to take jabs at one another, I would win, besides I never said there would be much talking involved." Tennessee explained smiling mischievously at his red haired brother. "I'm not going to be your scapegoat, Ten," Kentucky refused. He then sighed and shook his head, "You are a sixteen year old, who is chronologically been alive for roughly two hundred and forty-five years, but I swear you act like a ten year old," Kentucky said shaking his head again. "And your point is," prompted Tennessee. Kentucky gave his brother a flat look, "You are as dumb as a hammer," he said to him. "You are dumber than a hammer," Tennessee retorted, pronouncing each word slowly to mock Kentucky then hopped out of his seat to go find a suitable scapegoat. Kentucky then promptly stole the free seat.

As Tennessee was walking across the room to find a particular stat Virginia walked by him and stopped. Tennessee felt like he was going to die, his heart was pounding so quickly in his chest he was almost certain he was going to die from a heart attack, or just be in a lot of pain. Either way he would be in a lot of pain, if his brother found out that he had stolen his hat then Virginia was going to be very mad, and nobody liked a mad Virginia especially not if you are the one his rage is directed to. His heart beat quickened as he remembered the last time somebody had made Virginia, it wasn't him but he had felt really sorry for the person who did. He did not wish to be that person, but if he talked to Virginia he would, if he managed to pass the hat off to someone else they both would, if he did nothing at he would, no matter what he did he was doomed! His brother wasn't a violent person, he was one of the most laid back people he knew, he was also one of the world's best procrastinators, but when he gets mad he is _mad, very mad_ , but that was the only way getting mad made sense. Tennessee frowned at his own thoughts, standing here thinking about wasn't helping him at all either. Virginia had a worried expression on his face as he looked at Tennessee who had visibly paled quite a bit it the past few seconds. "Um, Tennessee," Virginia started. Tennessee's bright green eyes widened, and he hid the hat behind his back as nonchalantly as he could, which failed and he actually appeared very suspicious. Tennessee inwardly sighed, he was doomed and there was no other way of putting it. "Tennessee," Virginia repeated, "Are you okay you look like you're 'bout to pass out." Tennessee forced a smile, "I'm fine," he said not doing a very good job at lying. Virginia took a step towards him and Tennessee completely freaked out.

He tripped over his own feet and fell backwards to floor, in his surprise him through his arms out to catch himself, and tossed the hat halfway across the room, before hitting his head against the hard floor. Suddenly Maryland walked over with something in her hands. She offered it to Virginia, "I found your hat, Virginia," she said. Virginia beamed the smile and happily took his hat from her and put it on his head. "It must've fell off when I was tying my shoes," Virginia looked down at his feet and realized that he was wearing boots, "When I was tying my boots," he rephrased and then gave Maryland a brief hug. "Thanks Sis, you're the best," Virginia said still smiling. "You need to get that thing chipped," she joked before fading back into the crowd. Virginia looked down at his younger brother who still appeared quite dazed from hitting his head, but Tennessee had pulled himself into sitting position. "Are you okay," Virginia asked repeating his question from earlier. Tennessee nodded, "Yup, perfectly fine," he said breathing a sigh of relief. Behind him he could hear slow, sarcastic clapping coming undoubtedly from Kentucky. "Perfectly fine," he repeated quietly, and then passed out.

 **I'm back! (Please don't be mad at me)**


	8. Kansas and Nebraska

A short boy with golden blond hair and bright green eyes yawned and then sighed. He looked over at an older boy who had brownish red hair and blue eyes, wearing a blue and white checkered shirt, faded blue jeans, and bright red shoes. He was completely zoned out from the rest of the world. The blond began poking the older boy's arm in an attempt to get his attention. No success. Now, the blond decided he was having none of being ignored. He kicked the redhead in the back of the knee and he fell sputtering. After a few surprised blinks, he pulled himself into a sitting position and proceeded to glare at the blond before standing up. "Geez, Nebraska you could've just said my name. You didn't have to try and injure me," he complained in a mock hurt tone.

"Kansas, I tried that for five minutes straight," Nebraska bluntly informed him. Kansas rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish laugh, but a look that signaled to drop the matter.

"Well, what do you want? I'm fifty five percent sure either I'm broke, I forgot my wallet or somebody stole it," Kansas said and double checked his pockets to be sure.

"I didn't want money but I'll still take money," Nebraska said grinning mischievously.

"No," Kansas replied.

"No fair," Nebraska whined scuffing the toe of his shoe against the floor, the mischievous gleam in his green eyes had gone away. Suddenly he perked back up again remembering what he had meant to say in the first place. "Let's ditch this place already," Nebraska said.

"How, there's five people blocking the doorway and somebody tore the door off its hinges…," Kansas trailed off at that observation. "Who the heck tore the door off its hinges? I swear it wasn't like that five seconds ago!" He exclaimed his blue eyes wide in semi –panic.

"May the door rest in peace and not pieces," Nebraska said ominously. He was notorious for becoming lost from even his own train of thought, "You know I bet somebody will put the door in a wood chipper if they find it. I would," he mumbled. Kansas had zoned out again, but even if he hadn't his brother wouldn't have made much sense. "Huh?" Nebraska shrugged; even he wasn't sure about what he had just said.

Nebraska looked over at the rain splattered window. The rain was slamming itself against the glass and running down in rivulets. Lightening flashed and thunder roared, "You know as much as I'd like to leave through the window we came into this place from," thunder rattled the room once more, "When I think about it, I'd really rather not!" Kansas nodded in agreement; he wasn't a fan of bad weather either. "Use your magical shoes and get us the heck out of here!" Nebraska shouted which earned the duo some seriously odd looks.

Kansas looked down at his bright red shoes, "I swear they aren't magic. I'm magic, I can do a transportation spell without these shoes on," Kansas clarified quietly.

Nebraska raised a blond eyebrow skeptically. He had never seen his older brother do a transportation spell without the shoes on or with another pair of shoes on so he highly doubted what Kansas was telling him.

"Whatever, let's just go," Kansas mumbled. He didn't want to have an argument with Nebraska. Nebraska hugged Kansas. "You know we don't need to maintain physical contact in order for the spell to work," Kansas said feeling seriously uncomfortable. His little brother never hugged him under normal circumstances.

"I know, but last time I didn't you teleported me into a wall," Nebraska whimpered.

His brother laughed sheepishly and then sweat dropped, "My calculations were off…," he mumbled. "Anyways, to my house," Kansas said in a mock shout and the two boys disappeared in a blinding flash of light that no one but England seemed to notice.

Upon arrival, the first thing Nebraska did was look down. And notice they were far above the ground. He scrambled backwards, and his shoes slid on the slick surface of the tin roof they were on. "I think your calculations were off again!" Nebraska hugged his brotherly tightly around the waist.

Kansas shook his head, "I meant to transport us here," he said looking at the twirling rooster weather vane to the right of him.

"Is that sarcasm or not? I really can't tell."

Kansas shrugged. "Well, you're close enough to being a cat. So, if I shove you off the roof you should land on your feet," Kansas detached Nebraska from his side and pushed him towards the edge of the tin roof.

"I hate you," Nebraska screamed just barely stopping before the edge. He let out a long sigh of relief. The ground shook as he caught a glimpse past the edge. His feeling of calm vanished as quickly as it came. Just as Kansas predicted the short blond haired child landed on his feet perfectly unharmed but shaking like a leaf.

There was a bright white flash of light and Kansas appeared in midair beside of Nebraska. The red haired state had been a bit off on his calculations again. He had managed to teleport himself upside down. Gravity took effect and Kansas smacked headfirst into the ground. He gave a thumbs up and dusted himself off. He beamed a grin, trying to forget his slip-up. His younger brother was still shaking while muttering under his breath about how much he seriously hated Kansas.

Kansas laughed, "I'm starting to understand why you don't like me but that was too hilarious of an opportunity to miss out on."

Nebraska narrowed his eyes, "I will find that accursed bell and I will tear all your curtains to shreds," he promised.

"That made absolutely no sense," Kansas retorted.

"I'll break something," Nebraska rephrased beaming an almost scary grin.

Kansas turned away, "Not going to question it. Not going to question it," he chanted shakily under his breath. He looked back at his house. "I forgot my keys," today was just not his day, or anybody's day, Kansas decided. "Nebraska have you seen the-," he did a double take, "Nebraska! Where the heck did you go?" Nebraska was nowhere to be seen.

There was a barn in a far off field, and a silo in the distance. There weren't too many places Nebraska could've wandered off to. There was just a whole lot of space for him to get lost. The barn had peeling red paint and its wide doors were open, so it was visibly empty. The silo was too far away to tell of there was anyone there, but fear of ghosts kept Nebraska away from there. Suddenly he heard Nebraska yell something. He was insulting a sunflower.

"Get rid of those things, goldenrod's way better," Nebraska criticized, reappearing by Kansas's side.

"No, they're my state flower, and I like them. Go insult nature when you're at your own house." Kansas said crossing his arms.

Nebraska raised an eyebrow and gave him an odd look. "I don't have a house. I live with you," he pointed out.

"Exactly," Kansas retorted smugly.

Nebraska stared at him for a while and then kicked him. "Goldenrod is better, admit it!" He shouted his small hands clenched by his sides.

Kansas shook his head, "You don't have to start arguments when you're bored and you don't have to break things either."

Nebraska turned his head and huffed, "So you're ready to admit defeat?"

Kansas shook his head. He walked over towards his house and began turning objects over. "Nebraska, stop that now," Kansas shouted watching his little brother kick a flower pot and successfully shatter it. Nebraska shook his head, and stuck out his tongue before grinning and kicking another one.

Kansas watched the sky grow overcast above him. Grey clouds were moving in. He sighed at the nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. The weather just couldn't be friendly, could it? Kansas froze. It wasn't the weather that he was feeling; somebody was staring at him from behind.

Nebraska's green eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Looks like a country came to visit," he almost hissed.

Kansas spun around, and came face to face with none other than… Russia. Of course, it was more accurately standing face to mid-section. Kansas was only about four foot, six inches* so, he was short compared to Russia. "Did you come through the pentagram in the barn?" Kansas asked, just barely able to keep his voice and body from shaking. Alaska had mentioned Russia before, and nothing that had been said, that Kansas remembered, was all that pleasant.

"Greetings, small child," Russia said smiling.

"Um, you didn't answer my question…Mr. Russia…," He responded hesitantly.

"Da," Russia replied.

Kansas nodded his head, "That's good to know. I need to get rid of that thing, you're the fifth Russian that's came through it this week. I hope Louisiana didn't use permanent marker," Kansas trailed off. Nebraska watched them from the house, glancing up from the mess off pottery shards around his feet every once in a while.

"What's going on?" he asked without moving from his spot.

Kansas flopped down onto the ground. The tall weeds and flowers swallowed him. "Not helpful," Nebraska muttered. Kansas reappeared in the hayloft of the barn in the distance. Russia looked around in confusion, his scarf fluttered out behind him as the wind picked up.

"What just the happening," Russia asked looking around in confusion. It was unclear if he was aware of Nebraska's presence or not. He may have just been talking to himself. Nebraska hoped Russia hadn't noticed him. The last thing he wanted to do was have a conversation. Especially while his brother was in the barn's hayloft messing around with a pentagram. Nebraska sighed and jumped backwards over the ceramic shards scattered on the floor around his feet. He retreated inside of the house.

Several minutes later, after the wind had picked up even more, Nebraska poked his head out of the back door. In one hand he held a slingshot; in the other he carried ammunition. He sneaked around the corner of the house and then ran up behind Russia.

"Hi," he chimed, sticking both the slingshot and ammunition in his back pocket, where he could still reach them if necessary. There was no way he was going to talk to someone potentially dangerous without a weapon; he wasn't much of a physical fighter, and it just made him feel safer.

"Hi," Russia said turning around. "You are boy who said that he didn't liking sunflowers, da?" Russia asked.  
Nebraska looked up at him, making eye contact. "Yeah, do you have something against my personal opinion or something because I have a weapon," he bit his tongue, "I meant, um, hiss?" He stammered and made a hissing sound and watched Russia as he slowly backed away. Russia stared back at him, honestly as confused as Nebraska was.

"Amerika, sure has some weird…things," Russia said glancing at Nebraska sideways. The kid was still making odd sounds.

Meanwhile, Kansas was trying to figure out how to get Russia the heck out of his yard, and his state all together. The radio in the loft with him had just given out a tornado warning as he had expected. He didn't exactly like or dislike Russia, but he didn't want anyone to potentially get hurt when it could be prevented. Nevada had called him a few minutes ago, too, and informed him that things at the crashed meeting were going downhill too. On the bright side he was invited to play video games and cards with Nevada as soon as America was done being mad at him for the whole ordeal.

"Work, dang it," Kansas muttered tapping the white piece of chalk against the warped boards of the hayloft floor. He kicked the floor and gasped when it let out a low, loud creak. He stepped to the side and quickly tried to finish up his drawing. The pentagram began glowing and Kansas backed away for safety. He overstepped and plummeted right out the hayloft door. Kansas teleported while he was in midair and narrowly avoided breaking his legs, and possibly his neck.

Nebraska looked at his brother and hissed like he had at Russia. "My ears just popped, "he complained.

"Well, there's about to be a tornado, so I was trying to get Russia and us the heck out of here!"

Nebraska grabbed his brother's arm tightly. "Hey, you just need physical contact to increase your chances of me not teleporting you into a wall or something, that's fine. But you don't need to break my arm or cut off the circulation or both." Kansas tried to wiggle his arm despite the tight grip his little brother had on it.

"Once again, I don't trust you at all. Where in the heck are we about to go?" He asked interrupting Kansas's freaky whispering.

"Back to the meeting, but Nevada just warned me that it's going to end up more of a wreck than the first one."

Nebraska shuddered. "Let's go somewhere nice," he mumbled.

"We can later, after America is done being furious at all of us." Kansas assured him flattening Nebraska's golden blond hair with an affectionate pat. He finished his chant and a bright white flash illuminated the ominously, gray, and dreary sky as they disappeared.

*4"6 =142.24 centimeters


	9. Final Chaos

Glancing behind him, New York sighed. "Today has just been," he paused thinking back about the antics that had come to pass in the past few hours, "so, so, weird," He shuddered. Just thinking about it all made his head hurt. There was no doubt in his mind that his fellow states would wreak havoc on this building like they had done to so many before. It was almost as if they shouldn't be left in a room together, given how they never got along. States by themselves were destructive, nations by themselves probably weren't much better. How nations in one building didn't lead to mass destruction, even he would never understand.

It wasn't as if the states were completely unsupervised, at the most they had maybe ten adults, give or take a few. Though, those adults didn't act very adult like, and the eldest (Florida) mostly slept, ate oranges, and on a few occasions challenged people to random sword fights. Like all states Florida was strange, but then again that was saying a lot. Especially, since when compared to the other alleged adults, he could be considered "adulty-er."

New York himself was, physically, a legal adult. He always did his best to control his _friends_ ' antics during meetings. He laughed softly. None of them really were his friends.

"Howdy!" greeted a too loud, too friendly voice from behind the glasses wearing state.

He didn't even need to turn around in order to know how it was. Annoyed, he gripped his cardboard coffee cup tighter. If it wasn't empty, then its contents would've erupted everywhere. "Go away," New York growled.

Virginia hugged the shorter state from behind just to spite him. "Yorkie, don't be like that, we're friends," the blond laughed at his own words as if they were a joke. Or maybe he was just laughing because he always did so in a friendly manner. He was always a mystery.

"One, stop hugging me, two we're not friends, three what even are you doing?" New York asked spinning around to face the southern state.

Virginia shrugged. "Are you blind?" He asked, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

Without a pause, New York whipped off his glasses. "Without these I am. Now, are you just standing there pointlessly, did you come out here to smoke, or did you decide to annoy me?"

Fumbling around in his pockets for a lighter, Virginia shot him a halfhearted grin. He slid out a cigarette. A moment later it was lit; he was silent as he took a deep breath and blew out a puff of ash grey smoke. New York rolled his eyes and took the pack of cigarettes from his friend's outstretched hand. He lit one for himself and passed the box back.

New York closed his eyes, facing upwards, and sighed. His hands were shaking, and he felt jittery from all the caffeine he had consumed recently. It was more than he normally had by that time. He could barely stay still. Rocking onto the heels of his feet, he opened his eyes and looked back down. "Today's been," he started, running a hand through his hair, "stressful." He took a puff on the cigarette.

A laugh escaped from Virginia. "I'll say." He agreed. Out of habit he waved to people walking by on the street below. They didn't wave back. Those who noticed gave him odd looks. "Not too keen on bein' friendly, huh?" another laugh filled the momentary silence. "That reminds me a lot of you Yorkie, but I'm not sure if they're like you or you're like them."

New York focused his gaze on the ground. "You think you're soo funny right?" he snapped.

Backing away a few steps, Virginia gave him a wary look. "Not at the moment." He said. Why was New York so unpredictable? He hated to even imagine what the younger teen would be like drunk. Scrutinizing his friend, he began to wonder if he was acting upon more than just too much caffeine and nicotine. If anything he should be relaxed, or not. Virginia wasn't sure. "Heh, you feelin' okay there bud?"

He pulled the hood of his bright jacket over his head. Turning his back on Virginia, he walked off the patio onto the grass. The dulling greenery was slick with rain, dark ground underneath churned up into mud. He took another puff on the cigarette. A cloud of smoke rose into the air. Maybe once he was away from everyone else he could finally relax. At the most, the states met once a month and there was no doubt that it always left his nerves frazzled. Even cigarettes combined with ridiculous amounts of caffeine in his system, they couldn't make him feel better. The latter only made him jittery and much further from being relaxed!

"I just want to go home, and for America not to be mad at me. I did nothing wrong!" New York said. As always, he avoided eye contact. Electric blue fabric shadowed his face, almost completely hiding it from view; however, it didn't matter. He was mostly talking to himself. The only other person within earshot was Virginia, and he seemed more worried about his own well-being than actually concerned.

Feeling warmth growing closer to his fingers, Virginia glanced at his hand to see that the cigarette had burnt down to the filter. He flicked it into the ashtray atop a trash can, before slowly sneaking up behind New York.

All the air rushed out of his body as he was enveloped in a –literally—bone crushing hug from behind. In defense, New York clawed at Virginia's arms, desperate to escape from the damaging physical contact.

Puffing out his cheeks, the blonde gave the shorter teen a sad look, making full use of his puppy dog eyes.

"Stop it," New York growled. The moment the grip around his middle was loosened, he ceased in his chance and wriggled away. "Seriously, your innocence is sickening, not to mention very unbefitting."

"Hey, hey, there's no need to drag the past into this just because you're in a bad mood. Though, if I have a say in this, there's no way you're any better than I am." Virginia hugged his arms tightly to his body almost defensively so. Appearing to think for a moment before speaking again his tone changed, "On second thought, judge me all you want, but that's not a healthy coping method, heh."

Beneath the shadows of his hoodie, New York half cracked a smile. "So naïve." Pulling his phone out of his phone to check the time, he shook his head. He pulled the hoodie down to where it rested below the nape of his neck. "Well look at that," he said flashing his pale, bare wrist, "Really it is time for me to be going. You know, before America decides to force "family bonding time" or something equally as horrifying on us all." He shuddered at the thought. People had never exactly been his thing. Dropping his cigarette to the ground, before stomping it out he started to walk away.

Virginia looked away from his friend a feeling of dejection deep in the pit in his stomach. He didn't actually have "friends." Even so, New York, of all people being so hostile towards him hurt. It hurt a lot.

"I think this is yours," New York said handing a straw hat to the blond.

"Oh, come on not again! W-Wait I mean thank you," Virginia stammered his social skills fleeing from his body. He placed the hat atop his head and gave New York a thankful, yet goofy grin.

"Forget about it," New York mocked with a shrug. "You can come with me if it will really make you happy." He shoved his hands into the kangaroo pouch of his jacket. Virginia beamed a grin from ear to ear and easily caught up to New York. Feeling almost revolted at his act of slight kindness, New York tried to tell himself that it would be worth it. "Maybe I can teach you to play the Xbox," he suggested.

"I wanna learn to play that!" Virginia exclaimed happily.

"Act your age," he rolled his eyes.

Virginia flopped backwards onto the ground and crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes closed.

"I meant your physical age, not like a 400 year old corspe!" New York exclaimed almost laughing, but still managing only a smirk.

Getting to his feet, Virginia grinned at New York and that time he actually smiled back.

* * *

"Wow, just—oh wow—this is awful. I think this a new record of property damage for you guys." America's eye twitched, but he laughed trying to mask his anger. He was the last person anyone would expect to get mad, or discipline someone, but the states were an exception to his typical behavior.

"I disagree, we've done much worse, I can promise ya that pard," Texas corrected. The pistol in his hand was still smoking. America wondered how he had missed the sound of the gunshot, but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind. It was best to not question the states too much.

Spinning in a brief circle to get a full view of the destruction, America's heart sunk to his feet.

"Too bad for you aru, now panda and I must leave." China said in a hurry and left what was left of the room.

"I thinking that I should do same." Russia said.

"That really would be for the best. This meeting has been bloody awful and confusing." England walked away still muttering under his breath.

"As a former Nation I agree and say that I'm getting the heck out of here and everyone else should too." Hawaii said and started to slip out the door.

"Not you." Americas shook his head.

Hawaii glared at him, her dark brown eyes on fire. "You're going to let me go. I'll even do you a favor and keep Alaska off your hands for a while; he's already waiting at the airport for me. So, Aloha!" With that, she disappeared around the door.

America closed his eyes, and when he opened them the room had emptied out. Nations were gone. So were the states. He stared at the ground his eyes wide. How had everyone vanished in five seconds?! It wasn't even possible. Then again, how much of his life fit the definition of _"possible"_? "Well dudes," he said to no one, "I guess that's signal for me to head out to huh?" The building responded with a groan. With that he was heading out the door and downstairs to the parking lot where his car was.

Once outside, he looked around, but found no other cars. No states. _I swear if Louisiana did some creepy voodoo crap to make everyone vanish-_ , he trailed off from his own thoughts. He needed to go home and play some mind numbing video games. Maybe get a burger or two and a cola from a drive through on the way to his house. Nodding to himself, "That sounds like a plan," he said fumbling through his pockets for his American flag keychain.

Finally, he dug it out of his pocket. With a press of a button, his car honked and the doors unlocked. But as he started the get in the driver's seat, he noticed a brown haired stumble into the parking lot, holding a crushed can in a death grip. He slid out of the car and walked over to the kid. He bent down so he was eyes level with the child.

"Colorado what did I tell you about drinking?" America asked pointing at the crushed can. The smell of the kid's breath made him think that he had more than a few to drink. He wasn't even going to questioned where he got them. Heck, he probably brought some with him!

"You said—hic—that I need to stop—hic—cross dressing when I get drunk, right?" he slurred. His small hands were clenched around the dented can of beer as if his life depended on it.

"Yep, okay now dude," America said slowly, cautiously, "hand me the beer." Colorado's eyes widened and he shook his head, clutching the can to his chest, and turning away from the tall blond country. American put one hand on the kid's shoulder and used his free on to try and wrestle the beer away from the small state's vice grip. "You know what, keep it, just don't puke in my car got it?"

"Whoo!" he took half a step across the parking lot and face planted onto the wet pavement. America grabbed Colorado's hand and helped him walk all the way to his car. He opened up the back door and let Colorado fumble around with the rest from there. Then he climbed into the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition.

"So, how does Mickey D's sound to you little dude?"

"…"

"Don't puke!"America exclaimed. Colorado's face was reflected in the rear view mirror and his face had obviously paled while almost tinged green. "No dude just no," he shook his head and he pulled into the drive through.

"You—hic—shut up! I can hold my—hic—beer, dude!" Colorado protested from the back seat.

"If I get you a burger will you not get sick?"

"Not gonna hurl," Colorado muttered, his coat swallowed up his arms which were firmly crossed over his chest. "You—hic—underestimate me—hic," his hiccups were becoming worse.

America ordered, and a minute or two later he handed a red cardboard box back to Colorado, who wasn't looking as green as before since the car wasn't moving too much. America unwrapped one of his hamburgers and munched on it as he drove towards the suburbs.

" _It's staring at me_ ," Colorado whispered sounding absolutely terrified, pointing at the slightly creepy smiley face on the box.

America laughed. "Let's get you home dude." He smiled.

It had been a _long_ day.


End file.
